Taking Down Heat
by Night Rider 7
Summary: Sometimes, it seems like certain things never change. When they do it's painfully obvious, though. Ratchet finds out firsthand when an accident renders him unable to do the thing he does best-blow bad people up and look good while doing it. But of course, he knows everything will end up being fine…
1. Back to Business?

**Chapter 1: Back to Business?**

* * *

I just can't catch a break.

I don't consider myself a cynic by any means, but it always seems like there's a problem every time I turn my back. Doesn't have to be glaringly obvious at first, but I guarantee there's something, somewhere in the universe cooking up a problem to throw itself at us.

"Oh, this is just _fine_."

In this particular moment I'm in yet another minor bind. Don't get me wrong, Clank and I'd been at ease lately—well, taking in the fact that we weren't under attack by hostile beings that wanted to execute us by firing squad. Being back home on Veldin and enjoying casual life helped with that.

How many ships had I repaired in my garage over the years? At least a hundred, for sure. But now I have a problem. What was a rocket mechanic going to do with a vessel that tried everything in the known universe to prevent itself from being fixed?

After repeatedly being knocked around by life's ebbs, I've built quite the tolerance to having the figurative weight of a galaxy on my shoulders any day. It sure as heck didn't mean I had to _like_ it.

But for me not being able to fix a single darn thing on a sports ship after spending days on it? Just shoot me already.

I sigh. The limits of my patience were high when working on projects, but this was ridiculous. I roll out from under the ship, pressing my thumbs into my closed eye sockets. I'd been under so long my eyes have to adjust to the light in the garage.

"I detect an enormous amount of sarcasm in your tone. Is something the matter?" Clank asks.

He'd come to my beck and call from somewhere on the other side of the garage. I don't know what he had been pouring over, but there was an infinite chance he was having better luck on his work than I was on mine.

I get off of the rolling board, then get up and start giving the ship a once-over. "I just don't know what it could be. I tried replacing the exhaust pipe, but then the ignition coils started acting up. When I went to fix _those_ , the steering wheel popped off. Then after that, there went the pedals. I tried to look at them, but found out the airbag system's faulty and they kept deploying on me! And, as of several seconds ago, the combustor pipe blew up in my face."

"Oh…oh I, heh heh, see…" Clank puts one hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh at the amount of ash he sees on my face. I'm tempted to kick over the chair he's standing on.

"It's just one problem after another with this thing. I've never had so much trouble with a ship before," I say. "The _only_ thing that was easy was the paintjob."

Well, getting these patches of dark blue out my fur wouldn't be easy. In hindsight, I probably should've gotten kid-friendly paint. It might look horrible on the ship but it'd lessen the amount of scrubbing I'd have to do on myself.

I had just bought this used vessel from a seller on Novalis for next month's HoverDerby, a competition that they're having on Kerwan. He had told me all I needed to do was replace the battery but it was obvious that it'd been a lie from the pits of hell.

Now several days later with more problems in addition to the dull throb of a headache starting in my temple from hours of toil, it's sunk in that I likely got conned out of several thousand bolts. No wonder the crook was cheesing so hard after I handed him the check.

"This is totally, absolutely, NOT fine!" I finally snap, winding back for a kick. "I hate this piece of JUNK—!"

My foot goes in an arc, completely missing the ship, and my momentum takes me in a single backflip that ends with me crashing to the ground. It may be because the wind has been knocked out my lungs, but I'm too tired to even try to get up.

After a moment Clank leans into view, holding several papers in his hand. "Erm…do you feel better?"

I hear the sound of metal creaking and look up. Part of the ship's hull had come loose, leaning over for a moment before detaching and flattening me to the ground. See? This thing had it out for me and that was proof.

" _Arugh_ , this is THE biggest, mind-numbing, _torturous_ , Charlie Foxtrot of a chore I've ever been subjected to, and this is THE worst I've _ever_ felt while being employed as a rocket mechanic!"

"…I will assume that means no. Now I do believe it _is_ time for you to take a break."

"As if! Here's yet _another_ problem I've got to take care of. If it can't—ugh, handle me kicking at it even once— _agh_ , then I may as well—" I shove the slab of metal to the side, standing, "Either A, go get my money back, or B, fix it immediately."

I was leaning more to option A. I'll find that crook and… _convince_ him to give me my refund after I explained the problem.

"You will not do well by hunting that con artist down and holding him at gunpoint," Clank says. He knows me too well. "I suggest that you have a brief reprieve and relax your mind, then return to the task later. Remaining upset will do nothing but drive your temper up the wall even more."

I mumble a distant reply, catching glimpse of my reflection on the ship as I go to walk outside. Holy cow, nearly spooked myself—I could make a pretty horrifying scowl, especially with these eyebrows.

The wind had been a bit frisky that day, and sand was whipping around my feet. The sun's getting ready to set in the far distance but it's still light enough for me to see…well, nothing in particular. Kyzil Plateau has always been as barren as can be yet there's something about staring down the endless stretch of desert all around that eases me a bit.

I sigh again. This time it's more out of relaxation. Maybe Clank was right. It certainly would be nice to stretch my legs out, at least.

"Okay, you win. I'll take a break," I say, snatching my Omniwrench from where it had been propped on the wall. Just in case. I take several steps outside then turn, asking, "Wanna come along?"

"Sure, I do not see why not. I could like a breath of fresh air as well," Clank says, storing his papers away as he falls in step next to me.

"Strange. I didn't know you had lungs to breathe, barring the fact that Veldin's air is anything _but_ fresh. And what's that you've been hiding away and working on lately? Trying to create a new modification to do on yourself?"

"Very funny. And no, it is something…inconsequential."

"Oooh boy, that means it's a _seeecret_. Whatever tool of destruction it is you're making, let me have a go at it at least once."

"I do not think it is something you could have a _go_ at, Ratchet," Clank says cryptically, following up with a chortle. I give a good-natured roll of my eyes and face forward.

It was near the end of summer here on Veldin, and I think this is the first real time we've been out to enjoy the sights ever since we came back from Polaris awhile ago. Every year during this season we always have an increase in clients. After working nonstop on getting all these commissions done and with some downtime slipping back in our lives, we were getting a figurative breath of fresh air.

I inhale deeply and hack a bit as the wind gusts hard, tossing up sand. Definitely figurative.

Still, it took Clank to help me realize that I _did_ need some time off. Thank goodness he always knew what my limits were, even when I was blind to them. I sling my wrench over my shoulder, rubbing my knuckles against the top of his head. He looks up.

"Thanks…you saved me there. I would've run myself to the ground if you hadn't told me to take it easy."

"Oh, yes," he smiles slightly. "I thought I would have to step in at some point. I cannot believe you went out in public like _that._ "

I run a finger between my eyes and ash is on my glove when I pull back. Oh well, we're the only people around for miles so there's no real need to look nice all the time, right?

On that note of neglecting my personal well-being, I start to feel my insides complaining within several minutes. Just when I'd come to the realization that I hadn't eaten in hours, something catches my eye.

It's up in the clouds, zooming down through the atmosphere at speeds so high it leaves a yellow comet trail. I watch as it sails downwards, hitting the ground roughly five seconds later and making a thunderous crash we feel from where we're standing.

Not only that there's a huge cloud blossoming up, spreading outwards from the impact site and accelerating impossibly fast towards us.

"Oh, my," Clank says. "Judging by the rate of acceleration and making an estimate on the wave's velocity, I estimate we have approximately two and a half seconds before it reaches us."

"You don't say?" I'm gradually craning my head upwards, watching as the yards tall wave of sand and dust looms up on us. "Clank, brace yourself!"

He takes ahold of the back of my leg—not much else he could do, honestly. I throw an arm over my face and lower my center of gravity for balance. The wave crashes into us without mercy, and the force nearly manages to knock me off my feet. I find myself being pushed back several inches, sinking ankle deep into the sand.

As a person who's lived on Veldin for his whole life I can tell you there's a lot of things that can be done to make its quirks bearable. One being, developing a penchant for stocking up on as much frozen desserts on sale at from the market as you could, preferably the ones that are half-priced or less. You learn to not give a damn about quality when you need quantity.

It felt like we were in one of Veldin's tri-weekly sandstorms, and I could tell you—not something you'd want to be caught in, unless you didn't care about pouring sand out of every possible article of clothing that you had. Yes, even _those_.

But after several seconds, it was over. When the wind's died down enough I carefully open my eyes. Everything about the terrain looked the same as before. I look around, seeing the same widespread wave of dust and sand continuing on, gradually dissipating in the distance seconds later.

"What in the name Solana was _that?_ " I ask. In a severe show of displacement, the sand had built up to my calves. When I don't hear from Clank I look down to see one of his hands sticking up from the sand, still holding onto my clothes. I yank him out. Just like me, he's covered all over in grit. "Uh, got a little something on your face there, pal."

" _That_ was aggravating," he responds, clearly unhappy. "And I had just given myself a thorough oiling not too long ago. Several hours, wasted…"

He's still muttering to himself as I lower him to the ground, but now my attention was elsewhere. In the distance I can spot a faint plume of smoke drifting up. I can't accurately judge the size of the impact crater or the distance it was away from us, but it didn't seem that far.

I don't know about Clank, but my natural curiosity was already hiked up to its maximum. I had to go investigate. That also probably caught the attention of desert patrol, if they'd been in the area.

"Hey, how about we go check out what that thing is before the cops do?" I ask.

"Yes, I am rather curious to see what could have caused that…sandstorm," Clank says, with a hint of sodium chloride in his tone. "As for the desert police, I do not think we will have to worry too much about them. Today the Academy is hosting Bingo Mania."

He pulls out a flier. "And ooh, how convenient! The grand prize is a pair of self-ventilated ear muffs!"

"I probably would've entered to win them, but they're _way_ too small." That was exactly why, after finding several reference points from the actual product I'd created some schematics to make my own, fit to size. What? It wasn't like anyone else in the known universe would know how to make them for me.

Clank hops up backwards and fastens himself to the back of my suit. It makes me realize how it's been awhile since we'd gotten away from the routine, about three and a half Solanian months to be exact. It always sends a tingling up my spine when we get hooked up, like it was some weird, nostalgic feeling that wanted to be tapped into and explored further. Uh, the spirit of adventure? I'd call it that.

Anyway, I'm a bit excited now. I think a nice jog would set the mood for the rest of the day...not to mention burn off all these extra calories I gained from guilty pleasures over the summer.

"Wonder what that could've been," I say, picking my feet up higher to avoid sinking too deep in the sand. "Looked too small to be a space ship."

"Perhaps a meteor, considering that enormous impact reaction. But I did not detect any electromagnetic waves that would have corresponded with it."

"I do know one thing, Clank. Kyzil Plateau sure does attract a lot of riffraff, doesn't it?"

"Ah…riffraff? I suppose it does, yes."

"Yeah and, not all of it's been negative," I stop at the top of a sand dune the size of a small hill, breathing a bit hard. "I mean, look at you."

Something suddenly piques my attention, making only slightly aware of Clank's muttered, "…oh, Ratchet." Now I see the distance's not as far as I gauged it to be, only about the length of a football field. The mouth of the crater is in clear view, still smoking slightly, and I don't see anyone near the area to investigate it so far. We were in the clear.

As I start to slide down the slope, Clank says, "We have company." A moment later I hear a shriek somewhere to my right. A crouched shape slinks out from behind a nearby brush, hissing at us. I only spare the Horny Toad a glance and keep moving. They were just common fodder to me, not even worth my time. And that _name_ —it wasn't like I could take them any less seriously.

At least, I would've let the matter be if another toad wasn't popping up from a nigh invisible ditch in the ground in front of me, mouth open to latch onto my face. You try to be reasonable but there's always that one fool who wants to take advantage of it.

Without missing a beat I club my wrench upwards into its jaw, throwing it over my head. I hear the sound of two bodies colliding with each other, and Clank chuckles. "Good aim."

When I turn around the Horny Toads are getting to their feet, by now looking like they were regretting getting out of bed today. "Hey guys, I'm organizing your family reunion and inviting all the annoying relatives you hate." I say. They squeal, turning and kicking sand up as they tear away screaming. "Ha ha, classic..."

"I do not think they will forget that, Ratchet."

"Aw, what are they gonna do, croak at me until I keel over?" I crack up at the thought. Then I decide to shut my mouth, because I suddenly feel like I'm tempting fate here somehow.

The crater is several layers deep with different colored beddings of rock exposed, dipping downwards into a deep pit. At the bottom partially wedged into the ground was a surprisingly small, indistinguishable shape. It gives off a light glow.

Before I can get closer a beeping noise catches my attention, and I look over just in time to see a floating drone traveling along the mouth of the crater towards us. "Greetings. Senior Security Bot #523 at your service," it says, coming to a stop next to me. "Current duty is to observe and report the state of the environment in this area. You are advised to leave while the scan is in process."

"Uh, no. We made it here first, fair and square," I tell it. " _You_ can wait while _we_ check things out."

"Vocal patterns of unknown species detected. Running diagnostic…" it dings. "Subject identified as a common house cat of unusual size. Incapacitation report now sending to special trained force for animal pickup."

"That's just plain insulting!" I say.

"Attempts to soothe creature before spike of aggression levels occur," it says. A compartment opens up on its front and it beams out what's clearly a hologram of a bowl of milk the ground. "Here, here, kitty. This is not a hologram. Do not let your eyes deter you from the truth. Listen to your inner subconscious and embrace the very hubris of your nature. Allow your-"

It doesn't get any farther, since I've repeatedly started slamming my wrench down on its head. With a final blow I knock it over to the side, and it twitches a bit, wires poking out. "Hu-hubris…lost…."

"Was that the best course of action, Ratchet?"

"That felt like a massive blow to my intelligence," I answer, not realizing how much pent up irritation I'd had. I jump down, bracing my feet against the slope and sliding downwards. "But at any rate, no. So let's hurry up and check this thing out before the force catches up."

"Thank you, as I would rather not take responsibility for a five-million bolt search droid."

Geez, five million for that thing? Maybe they should've invested in giving it better defenses instead of making it do…whatever the heck it just did, serenade me with mind games? I slide to a halt at the bottom, keeping my distance from the pulsing crater. "So, what's the situation?"

You could literally hear the gears in his head turning for a moment. "…Hm…I am unable to determine its constitution."

Up this close I can see it's opaque and oval shape. It reminded me of an egg, though I've never seen one the size of my head (the one that I use to think, I mean) and glowed green like it had radiation in it. Clank detaches from my back, continuing, "However…it does seem to resonate the strongest with the bio-scan, so it appears to be partially organic in nature."

"Funny you say that, because it looks like an egg to me. But that's crazy," I say, as we carefully inch closer. "If that's what it really was, how on earth could it survive a crash like this?"

And would it be safe to touch? Clank always told me that curiosity killed the Lombax, but I think it's just to implore some fear to quell my daredevil tendencies. And hey, I've survived so far.

I extend my Omniwrench, carefully clasping it around the thing, and try to wrestle it free. The uneven ground gives me bad footing so I move and get right on top of it, using both arms to give more power.

"Careful, Ratchet. Remember what I always say—"

"—curiosity killed the Lombax," I say with him, grunting as I pulled back. "I know Mom, I know…"

I suddenly feel it loosen a bit, and I pull my weight backwards with another tug. The object resists no more and dirt flies up as it pops out the ground. "Whoh…!" I stagger back, catching myself before I fell over, then take a look. It's a glowing green oval with these dark veiny growths covering the side that had been buried underground. I carefully knock my fist against it, feeling a glass like texture. And Clank said this was partially organic?

"What _is_ this thing?" I can't help but to ask, turning so he can see it.

"Judging by its appearance and texture, I am unsure. There is no record of an object anywhere in my database. We must approach it with caution until we discover what it is. There is also the possibility we could turn it over to galactic authorities and have them run several tests on it."

"Wanna take it back to the garage and fool around with it?"

Clank's deadpan look nearly slays me.

Then he sighs, of course knowing that my definition of 'fooling around' was to shoot or maim something until it exploded. "Did you hear my explanation, Ratchet? I just clarified why it is unsafe to tamper with."

"Look at this," I hold my wrench up, rubbing the egg-thing up against the side of my face. It's cool to the touch and a little static-y but otherwise, nothing happens. Clank looks like he's about to bust a sprocket.

"I'm _fine_ , scaredy cat. At least you can say it's not hazardous to the touch, right? It can't be _that_ dangerous."

"Famous last words…oh, why do I even bother?"

As we walk back up the pit I'm wondering which weapon I could use to break it open. It did seem to have the consistency of glass. Maybe something that pierces or melts. The Shredder Claws? No, I was too busy modifying those. Ah, there was the Pyrocitor or the Incinerator, too. There were so many awesome opportunities and with a little bit of experimenting, I could easily find out!

I hold it in front of my face, pleasantly amused to find my reflection on the surface. It reminded me of earlier, when I'd been glancing across the surface of the problem ship.

Huh. Now there was something I wasn't looking forward to when we got back. But I was stubborn to work with that thing until it was functional enough, if only because I had never dropped a project for any reason. It was going to get done and we were going to that HoverDerby next month if I had to hook several Grunthors up to it and make them pull it to the finish line.

But first, I think I'd like to revel in this idea of…break taking.

I'm so busy thinking about future weapons to deconstruct my new toy with that I don't notice that it's glowing a bit brighter at first. I have to lower it a little, squinting; there are vibrations starting to come from it, and they quickly increase in consistency and strength. I put both hands on my wrench, trying to stand my ground on the top of the slope. It's hard to do with my entire upper body shuddering like mad from just holding it. Clank looks over. "Do you hear that noise?"

I do. It's my teeth clattering. Now I can feel some sort of energy pulsing from this thing, and it was making my fur stand on end all over. "W-W-Whoa, wh-what is _with_ this thing?"

"It seems likely it heard you talking about destroying it!"

"I-I totally didn't mean it, honest!" I say, hopefully loud enough for whatever spirit I'd angered to hear me. I keep one eye shut, trying not to look at it too directly and a bit startled when I see white lines spider webbing over the surface. Before I can even think about dropping it light shines from the cracks, and it ruptures.

It was like a balloon popping, only ten times less festive and ten times more painful. And not to mention, loud enough to make me go deaf for a moment. I can't see anything else but these brief, sickening flashes of light either. It was so disorienting I'm not even sure if I passed out or that my senses just winked out for a moment.

I came to Clank calling my name, telling me to wake up. I blink several times, trying to clear the blindness out of my eyes. And good heavens, it feels like someone drilled a hole in my skull and dumped Qwark's homemade fudgecake in it. Not the best feeling.

"Whargh…?" I say.

"Ratchet, are you okay?" Clank asks. I sit up, a bit too fast; nausea makes me groan and I lean over to the ground again, placing my hands on my head. I was laying in the pit where we'd found the egg, I saw. Did that seriously knock me all the way down here? Great, I was asking for a concussion today.

"Ratchet, I believe the desert patrol are on their way to investigate the explosion. Perhaps we could explain to them what happened and get you some medical attention."

I groan. Just when I needed law enforcement to be distracted with trivial matters. They were going to be sorry they passed up those earmuffs. "…it was that bright? That blast?" I ask, feeling my head still throbbing as I manage to sit up.

"Very, and quite loud…how do you feel?"

I'm too distracted and don't answer, searching the area for my wrench until I realized I was lying right on it. I get into a kneel and brace it to the ground, using it to stand up all the way. The world tips and I almost fall forward over Clank, who holds his hands up.

"I got it…come on, let's go." I wasn't going to stick around for those patrol guys and answer questions. Not that we had done anything malicious of course. Uh, besides destroying a robot that belonged to the force, but they wouldn't arrest me for that, right? The general thought of bumping into the police makes me nervous for some reason. Besides, I'd left all my ambiguously legal items at home so they couldn't try me for anything!

I stumble a bit over rock, catching myself. Clank obviously feels this and turns his head to the side, asking, "…Ratchet?"

"I'm fine. If not, I will be," I answer, looking over my shoulder. In the far distance I can see lights dancing amongst the dunes, getting closer. If all else failed I'd dig a hole and camouflage my body. Clank was the goody-two-shoes, or better yet, he could just sign autographs to get out of trouble. Wouldn't be the first time I got Secret Agent Clank to butter people up.

As we were heading back I was having a bit of a difficult time, though. My body has never felt this unresponsive before. Every now and again I would stumble, feeling like my legs weren't all the way functional. And at the speeds I was sprinting back, that would've dinged the both of us up if I tripped and fell.

Finally, I can begin to see our garage in the distance, the safe haven! A thought crosses my mind that I never should have left in the first place, or else this wouldn't have happened. But that was ridiculous, because I—

 _"Oof!"_ This time I _do_ trip, flipping head over heels and tumbling along like a pinwheel on the ground for several moments. That doesn't do anything to help my head. "…ow."

"Oh goodness, Ratchet," groans Clank. He'd actually come detached with all that rolling and ended up tangled in a dead bush. I get up, grab him and get out of there with speeds that could've landed me in the Galactic Olympics.

* * *

Have I mentioned how comforted I feel in the presence of motor oil, tools, and dismembered ships? All a part of the work, I guess, but I just love our garage that much. I'm pretty sure that's why when we finally return, I start getting distracted by a few minor details to make it feel even more secure.

The cops _can't_ come here to investigate us. Like they felt sanctified with their coffee and donuts at HQ, I feel the same way with my garage and had the right to preserve that feeling, damn it!

"….and I am still unsure."

Clank's voice drifts into my perception several minutes later. It sounds like he'd just gotten done talking for a while. It wasn't abnormal for me to accidentally tune him out but he does get annoyed when it's obvious I'm not paying attention. "About what?" I venture.

"If you are truly…okay."

"Sure I am, Clank," I say, bolting the last window shut.

"Then would you mind explaining why you ran from the police? Maybe if they had heard what had happened, they could have helped get you to a medical facility."

"Nah, I can take care of myself…with your help, anyway."

"And," Clank spins a finger in the air, motioning around, "why you started blocking all of the entrances to the garage when we got back?"

I've already pulled the garage door shut, but was now struggling a bit with the lock mechanism. I pause, looking from the remote in my hand to Clank as I scratch behind my ears. "I...don't really know. I got nervous?"

"More like paranoid. You are acting like a convict who has just done something illegal."

The dumb thing won't lock. I stare at the remote, trying to make sense of the buttons. Had there always been this many? "Hey, which one of these locks the garage door?"

"That is the Holo-Vid remote, Ratchet."

"Uh…right. I knew that. So, tell me what you saw out there with that thing I had?"

"It blew up in your face and knocked us apart. When I got my bearings I saw you down in the pit, where it had thrown you."

That was right. I shudder a bit. Having my senses blocked was something I'd rather not go through again, even if it was for a few seconds. You never fully realize how much of a privilege it is to see and hear until those sensations are gone.

Clank tugs on my hand several times, snapping me out of the daze I'd gotten in. I blink, suddenly realizing I'd been staring at the wall for a good ten seconds. "Oh, sorry about that…must've zoned out for a moment..."

"Ratchet, it is getting a bit late and I believe you are going to be out of it for the rest of the day. It is time for us to get some rest and we can return to work tomorrow."

As he was talking I ended up staring at the problem ship I had been working on for so long. I go over to it, leaning in. There were so many dials and buttons, and I can't even remember what half of them did...

Ugh, it was an information overload. This is making my head hurt. What is all this and why does none of it suddenly make any sense—

In a sudden panic I jerk away, tripping backwards over something and falling to the ground. It turns out it was Clank, who doesn't look too happy as he detangles himself from my legs.

"Claaank, when did all those buttons get there?! I thought I was riding a hovercraft, not piloting a weaponized drone!"

"Well _I_ surely have no idea what you did to that thing! You were busy modifying it before you even started repairing it," Clank stands up, pointing to the door. "Now come on, Ratchet. We are done for today. You need to rest."

I stand, eyeing the blue chrome hull of the ship as I back away. It looks like it's sneering at me.

"How do you feel?" Clank asks, as soon as I turn around. "And respond before you get distracted, please."

"I mean, I feel alright. My head's hurting a bit but it's not as bad as it was," I walk past him, tuning into my body for a moment. There was something else I noticed that was nearly impossible to miss. There was buzzing in my head, like all my thoughts had turned into mindless flies crashing into each other. "It's…it's harder to concentrate, I think…"

"As I figured..." Clank says, then mutters something under his breath about me already having a short attention span. I have no clue what he was getting at though—I pay attention all the time, except for when I'm not.

Using some cash from our pockets, we managed to furnish a separate housing area and attach to our main garage. It was small and modest, just enough for the both of us to live comfortably. "Maybe I just need to lie down or something." I say, as we go into the living room. As soon as the words leave my mouth I throw myself on the couch, kicking back. Actually, nah. Watching the Holo-Vid seemed much more interesting. Clank doesn't look too surprised as he sits down next to me, switching the screen on to the Science Channel.

He's sneaky when he tries to be. It's only five minutes of them talking about the finer points of the chaos theory and I can feel my eyelids starting to droop. As I start to drift off I'm positive I can see Clank grinning at me out the corner of my eye. Boring someone to sleep seems to be a proud gimmick of his.

Then suddenly, I can feel myself being shaken awake. Clank is calling my name, and even half asleep with a cluttered head I can hear the hurriedness in his voice.

"Ratchet. Ratchet, wake up."

I raise up, a bit startled. "Hah…? What is it?" Oh, my head is pounding. I lean up with a groan, glancing out the window; it was dusk, so I'd been asleep for a couple of hours.

Clank is standing near me, looking thoughtful as he holds his communications monitor out in front of him. It's salt and peppered with static, rippling every now and again. "Wha's going on?" I ask hazily, lying back down again and keeping one ear tilted in his direction.

"There seems to be something odd happening. Approximately five minutes ago I had received a long distance transmission from Ms. Phyronix, but it appears that it cut off mere moments after the connection was established," Clank says, "I have tried several consecutive times to reconnect, but have only received static."

"…wait, Sasha?" I say, waking up a bit more. I sit up, letting his words penetrate the hazy maze that was my head. "You said she called you, but what, again…?"

"The connection failed. I am unable to contact her in return for some reason. I do not want to think negatively, but I do find that a bit abnormal."

"Uhhh, okay," I say distantly, rubbing my thumbs into my eyes and trying to wake up. If anything, I felt worse than I did before I fell asleep. After a moment Clank glances at me, then retracts his monitor.

"Are you well? How do you feel?"

"If I were honest, not too hot. It's like I slept but didn't rest…"

Clank blinks, slowly. "I…do not understand. How is it possible to experience slumber but not gain relief from it?"

"Trust me, it's possible. Wouldn't be the first time it's happened to me, anyway," I will myself to stand up, stretching so hard lights pop into my eyes. "Ahh, so…what do you say we go check on Sasha real quick, go make sure everything's alright? It is pretty weird, what you told me."

"I do not think it would be a waste of time," Clank says, jumping off of the couch. "I will go make sure everything is locked down."

"Right, and I'll go snatch some heat from the vault." As I always say, you could never be a bit too cautious. Maybe I'm just paranoid or savvy, but I felt like having some firepower was never too bad of an idea when going somewhere.

I'm too busy thinking about the possibilities of what could've happened with Sasha's miscommunication, I forget there's a lengthy drop leading down into the vault. As soon as I open the hatch and step forward, there goes my dignity as I scream, falling ten feet into the darkness before landing with a crash Clank probably heard from the garage.

"Oww…" It feels like there's an army of Terachnoids wearing cleats and marching all over my skull. I blindly grope around in the dark for the light switch, unable to get my bearings for a moment. Here, over to the left I thought…right here!

The instant the lights cut I see the hole in the back wall, giving a good view of the desert terrain behind our garage.

What registers next is the chaos in the entire vault—most of my weapons aren't on their wall stands, others are knocked down from their standing racks and scattered across the floor like toys, and all my other work equipment is strewn everywhere imaginable.

There's two Horny Toads standing in the middle of everything. One of them is looking dead in my eyes, casually moving its leg aside to knock over the last standing weapon rack.

"What the _ACTUAL—?!"_ I stand up, practically seeing red. Before they can register what's happening I've lunged forward, snatching up the Ion Blaster and holding the barrel level at them. Then…

…nothing. Why was there nothing happening?

I had the weapon pointed at them, to jack them up like they did my workspace, but…blank. I can't think straight. Head hurts. I can't use the weapon.

It's not familiar to me, like I was holding a wet fish. I'm getting stonewalled by some mental blockage I was sure I had never felt before. Wait…did I even remember how to...?

Maybe I needed a bit more urging myself on. I hike my ears up, trying to make myself look bigger. "You're both goin' _down!_ " I aggressively point the weapon at them and they flinch back. One of them panics and starts to bolt, and the other one follows suit…. but suddenly, they stop. They still don't have a reason to run anymore.

And that's because I haven't fired. In fact, I've lowered the gun, staring at it.

Why are things suddenly so…unclear? Just hold it up and make it do work. But how did I do that, again? It was like my brain isn't fully understanding the situation and unable to form a path to a simple, albeit explosive, solution.

It's fairly simple in theory: number one, 'spot enemy'. Number two, 'pull gun'. Number three, 'make gun fire'. It's been my shtick since day one. But now nothing seemed less familiar to me. I swallow a bit. This was so messed up. Maybe I was just still half-asleep or, or...

It shouldn't be _or what else_ , period. _No_ excuse.

I hold the Blaster up cautiously, completely forgetting I was supposed to be exterminating something in the first place, and study it for a moment. I hadn't picked it up for use in years, but that's not the only reason why it looks so alien to me.

I'm distinctly aware of the trigger lying in plain sight. That fact seems really unimportant for some reason. It doesn't…really click in my head at what its purpose was, except that maybe it had something to do with making the weapon work.

That idea and my understanding are dancing, brushing against each other like awkward seniors on prom night and don't quite synchronize. I furrow my brows, trying to comprehend. The trigger…

…makes the weapon fire…?

...

...I think I just felt every single facet of my being just collapse in on itself a massive, collective system failure, like all of the self-sense I'd woven from years of living and experiencing had just been cut deeply by the biggest, worst type of unbearable lie ever. Because this was _total madness._

"…I'm going CRAZY. That's just it, isn't it?! Ha ha ha! I'm going crazy! Yeah! Because what is this, I can't even—"

The next thing I know I'm being tackled down to the ground by a screeching toad. I distinctly hear them escaping into the night with a victory on their shoulder but hardly notice, placing both hands to the sides of my head.

This was _insane_. I knew something was wrong but didn't know why it was wrong. Something's messed up in my head, I knew it, I couldn't even concentrate on simple things and this was so, so imperfectly fine.

Soon, Clank's voice is echoing down from the top of the ladder. "Ratchet, I thought I heard you shouting. Are you alright? And oh my, what has happened in here?!"

I sigh, sitting up finally and rubbing my head. "…we've been broken into. I gotta put something over that hole before we leave. I can't believe they snuck in here like that and _trashed_ the place…"

Clank's eyes are wide as he walks in, looking around before settling on the hole. "Who is…they?"

"Just two of those dumb toads, probably trying to have some late night fun. Wow, I _betcha_ they're the same ones from earlier," I mutter. To think I'd been laughing earlier, but I'd clearly jinxed myself. I was also feeling a bit insulted they had gotten over my head with this. I didn't think of myself as a very vengeful person but as soon as this weird bout of senility I had disappeared, I'd find them and gun all of their insides across Veldin terra firma.

I bite the inside of my cheek, glancing at the Blaster then at the other miscellaneous weapons on the ground. It's like I'm looking at lost memories trying to reemerge, but they're not making it and drowning below the surface of understanding.

Great, now my headache's trying to sneak up now. I groan. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with this. Maybe…maybe I was still just delirious or whatever from earlier. A little voice at the back of my mind _does_ tell me it'd probably be good to take it easy for a moment. I guess this time…I didn't have to come strapped.

I cringe. That's a terrible thought. But head hurts. Mind is starting to stir. I don't want to think about this anymore.

There's a metal sheet on the wall, stripped from a previously scrapped project of mine. I take it, nearly falling over from the weight as I carry it to the hole and throw it against the wall. "There! Let's see 'em get through that and wreak havoc now."

I turn to Clank, and he's giving the wall a curious look.

"Ratchet…it would have taken a moment to weld that in place. What if there is enough space for them to squeeze through?"

My head spirals a bit. "You…mean I have to use a tool with a mechanical function that requires my physical input to use?"

Clank looks up at me, tilting his head. "Erm…yes?"

"Nah-haah, you worry too much."

For now, I'd let Clank think it was my laziness chalking it up. I walk by him, cuffing him in the head gently. "Now, let's get moving. It's pretty late but we should be admitted into the Capital."

"You are not going to take anything with you?" he asks, making me stop with one hand on the ladder. I stumble over my words as I turn, facing to see his bewildered expression. "Ahh, nope. Changed my mind. It'll just be a joy ride, right? I'll strap on my wrenches and be set. Uh...where'd I put them again?"

"Yours is in the garage, and the other is stuck in the back of Holo-Vid from where you...fixed it two days ago," Clank says plainly, looking pretty malcontent about my impromptu solutions to daily problems. "You can retrieve them while I do a last minute grounds check..."

He pulls out a notebook and I burn rubber going up that ladder, trying to get the heck out of there. Ugh, for now I'd just…roll with the punches, I guess.

This was not going to end well.

* * *

Several minutes later I'm raising Aphelion's cockpit when the compulsion to freeze seizes me.

For a moment I'm hanging hallway into the ship, staring at the dash. As I'm looking, there seeps in that same sensation from before, the feeling that I can't quite fully understand what I'm looking at.

No, _wait_ —it's a bit different. It's _dim_. I get in all the way, careful to not touch anything just yet. Some of her controls I can see and understand with some thought, but it still takes an abnormal number of seconds to realize I'm staring at the stabilizers, or I've got my foot on the break. Maybe because I'd been so familiar with Aphelion I could still recall _some_ of what she did but I could clearly remember earlier, when I'd barely understood all the busyness with my problem ship. Still didn't explain why I couldn't-

No, I shouldn't think about what had happened with that weapon. In fact, it didn't happen. It was a complete lie.

I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It…didn't look like my mind relapsed _completely_. My memory was irritatingly selective, but now I think there were enough things I understood to make her go.

I almost laugh. Wow, I'd never thought I'd have to second guess myself when it comes to ship parts. They were practically my living. Well part of it at least. Saving the galaxy was in a different realm entirely.

"You look a tad bit green there, Ratchet," Aphelion says suddenly, making me jump. "Rusty after the entire summer of not going anywhere?"

"Maybe just a bit..." I admit. Was it a full lie? I didn't want it to be. "Let's see. I'm gonna run a few checks here…"

I press a button without pausing to identify it. Aphelion recoils a bit as a missile erupts from her cannons. It whistles as it soars off, streaking ahead into the dark desert.

Clank walks up several moments later, checking off the last thing on his notepad. "Alright," he says, dropping down next to me and putting his seat belt on. "It seems everything is accounted for. My checklist has been double checked, theoretically implying that our furnished belongings will be at a hundred percent structural efficiently upon our return."

He looks at me closely for a moment. Then he scans the area, before narrowing an eye at me. "…what have you done?"

"Nothing."

There's a loud boom in the distance, and the explosion lights up the desert about a mile down. I cut my eyes to the side at Clank, who's got his arms folded. "I-I was double checking my own checklist too, 'cept it was mental," I say quickly. "Besides, gimme a break…I'm rusty."

"In more ways than one, it seems. Now, if all preparations are in hand…ah. Hold on, I had thought I left it in here…" he opens Aphelion's glove box and pulls out a handkerchief. A pink one. And he stores it in his radiator core. "Now I am ready!"

Then he looks over, seeing me trying to hold laughter in, and squints defensively. "It is just in case!"

"In case of what, you start tearing up when we're shooting through the stratosphere?" For second I focus on pulling up on the flight stick, thankfully managing to get Aphelion up in the air. "And it's _pink._ Please tell me someone gave that to you as a gift."

"They did! And I like to utilize the presents my fans give me to maximize their satisfaction!" he huffs. "Besides…you may think it is silly to have, but I assure you it might come in handy."

"Yeah. Just ring me up when I have a head cold."

* * *

I think I had this down. I mean, we were flying through space and my mind was becoming increasingly fragmented like a smashed mirror the longer I flew, but hey, better than nothing, right? It's scary, dare I admit it, to feel my knowledge on how to simply pilot Aphelion peeling away. Small things like where the breaks where, the lock on missiles, the radio—everything becomes more and more distant.

If anything, I couldn't forget how to use a flight stick, right? I mean it handles like…well, any other thing that's long and handy. And those of you with dirty minds, don't even go there.

Despite my hidden anxieties and nearly sweating through my fur we finally make it into the stratosphere of Marcadia about two hours later at average speed, heading towards the capital. I've all but blanked out on the controls, but that's soon put out of my mind when we see something that was strange as all get out.

There's about several dozen ships surrounding the presidential compound when we fly in. Somehow, it sends off all alarms and immediately makes everything take a nosedive deep into serious depths.

"That is...quite the defense down there," Clank says, shocked.

There's no clear space at all, and I'm seriously baffled as to how many ships were patrolling at the same time without there being several collision explosions. "I'm gonna have to find a place outside city boundaries to land us in, then we can make it there on foot."

I just hoped Sasha and President Phyronix were alright. Would that have been too much to ask? I think I had my fill of losing people close to me to unfortunate circumstances.

Speaking of unfortunate circumstances, this one's becoming a bit dire. Knowledge of everything but the flight stick is suddenly lost to me, like my mind had had enough of trying to comprehend anything relevant to flying. Because it totally couldn't have waited another minute when we weren't hundreds of feet in the air, right?

"This sucks," I say.

"I agree, it is a bad timing on our part," Oh Clank, you'd soon see that we were not talking about the same thing. "I think I see an area down below, near the outside of the compound…er, Ratchet? Are you going to alter our course, or have you seen a better spot?"

Out of some compulsion of not knowing what I'm doing I accidentally hit something and Aphelion breaks, hard—Clank lurches forward, snagged tight by his seat belt. "Whoops, oh, sorry!" I say, carefully moving my foot away from the pedal. "I'm about to land us. Just…give me a moment to…"

Figure out what on earth I'm looking at. The control panel seems to be spinning out of control before my eyes. It a sight that honestly, truly sucks, seeing the controls and suddenly not knowing what to do. I'm handling the control stick a bit awkwardly now and Aphelion's pretty much going at a slow cruise, hovering a bit from side to side as I try to lower her down.

And by now of course Clank notices something's wrong. "Ratchet, is there an issue? You appear to be quite flustered."

"I'm fine!" I say, a bit too loudly for it to be true. Clank opens his mouth but before he can speak, my foot hooks on something and clicks it back into place. Wait…what was that lever down there for—

Clank and I give shout as Aphelion kicks it into overdrive, pressed back into our seats by the sudden shift in speed. I'm sure I just activated the Overthrusters, which, in addition to my terrible guiding means that we're heading right at airspace above the presidential compound that's thickened with ships, which equates to us being thoroughly screwed at the moment.

"Ratchet, pull up!" Clank cries. "Better yet, deactivate the thrusters!"

It's a lot harder to remember where things are in the face of an imminent fiery death, which is only the medial reason why I can't do either of those things. As the sea of ships get closer, it's a tad too late to confess but I do it anyway. "Clank, listen before we die I gotta tell you something!" I say, trying to formulate some sort of direction with the control stick. "I've…I've forgotten how to fly Aphelion!"

Clank's expression pretty much sells his horror. "Just now?"

"No, like…gradually, nearly the moment right after we left Veldin and, it, it's like my mind just went blank several seconds ago..."

"Those are words no ship wants to hear," Aphelion says, sounding pretty jaded that she was on her way to another fiery crash. Her horn honks as we narrowly plow through a wall of the ships, and most manage to quickly move out of our way. Her right wing clips the left of a patrol ship's and we roll a bit to the side, slightly shaken, but we've made it through that particular section still intact.

Now for the wall of the presidential compound, I don't think we can pit.

Clank grips into his seat tightly, tucking himself in. "Oh dear, we are going to crash…"

"No we're not, we're just falling with style!" I say, making one last minute roll back on the control stick to try even us out. I can't tell if it made a damn difference, because crashing hurts no matter how pretty you try to make it look.

There's this huge thud, a rattling jolt that surges through Aphelion when she hits. The sounds of metal and stone grinding together is screechingly jarring, nearly enough to distract me from the pain of being thrown forward then caught tight by my seat belt. Thankfully it ends as quickly as it starts.

For a moment, I'm too dazed and limp to move. "Oh…oh, man," I unbuckle myself, leaning back. How many head injuries had I gotten in the past half day? I was probably going to end up wearing a helmet at this rate. "Clank…you okay?"

"Well, we are still alive, so I cannot complain much," he answers calmly. I don't see how he kept a straight face, since he somehow ended up wearing his seat belt like a straitjacket. I groan again, trying to get my bearings. Oh, not good. We've blown a hole in the side of the building, and I'm pretty sure that was rocket fuel I smelled in the air—

 _FWOOMP._ I'm practically Iron Maidened back into my seat, barely able to breath. Dammit, I thought I'd fixed these airbags awhile back to deploy _on_ impact, not after. It'd have to go on my long, long list of things to do later for now.

Clank and I drag ourselves out the wreckage, the both of us a bit beat up and wobbly. Poor Aphelion doesn't look as bad as I thought she would, but there was still a lot of external damage to her front side and her windshield is shattered on the ground.

I stare at her a moment longer before I turn, walk several feet away, and lie down flat on my back on the grass. I take in a deep breath, then let it out. Probably to preserve the unconventional casualness, Clank simply sits down next to me. He looks like he wants to ask something but doesn't know how to begin.

"...I don't know," I say, taking a wild guess."I don't know what's wrong with me, Clank. This is…something I've never felt before, not understanding how things work. They've _always_ worked for me. And now…I don't know what I'm _doing_ anymore."

I laugh, but there's not a speck of humor in it. "How can someone just forget how to pilot a ship, in the _middle_ of doing it? Look into my eyes, Clank—tell me if I'm going crazy!"

"You are not, Ratchet, but I do believe this is something we need to have investigated at once," Clank says. He shuffles his feet along the ground, drawing a finger into the dirt for a moment. "…I suspect that it has something to do with that explosion earlier. Perhaps it did some warranted, if slightly delayed trauma to you."

I process this for a moment. That made sense. How come I hadn't seen that before? I grunt and roll over to my front, rubbing my temples. I hoped Sasha wouldn't go head over heels about the wall. I'd have to beg her for some medicine, anyway.

"We appear to have another problem, Ratchet."

"What would that be?"

I hear the sound of feet mobilizing, then when I sit up there's a ring of Galactic Rangers surrounding us.

"Uh…we were just dropping in for a visit?" I try, highly aware of all the blaster barrels leveled at my face.

" _Dropping in_ , uh huh," says one Ranger, J45 judging by his stamp. He points at Aphelion. "Bombing the side of the most protected building in the Solana galaxy counts as dropping in… _terrorist?!"_

"Wait, whoa hold on a minute!" I say, standing up. The sound of two dozen safeties clicking off immediately makes me retract the movement. "Guys, look! It's us, Ratchet and Clank!"

"Nice try, but the REAL Ratchet and Clank would know how to pilot better than a one-month old Floranian monkey," says another Ranger, pressing his gun to the back of my head. Which is still pounding, by the way.

"Not by much," says Clank. I nudge him, whispering, "Hey! We've got an army of guns pointed at us, no need for truth nor technicalities!"

"We're taking you both in for a holo-guise test," Ranger J45 states, pulling out what seemed to be restraints. "We're not letting _anyone_ sneak around us."

"Right, and I understand that wholeheartedly," I say, backing up only to find another body blocking my escape. "But really, we've come to talk to Sasha, she—"

"You're going to be talking to your _sweet old granny in Heaven_ if you don't cooperate!" a voice barks from the back. There's a pause, and everyone shifts around to face the Ranger standing in the outer circle.

"Holy cow, H69…" says J45.

"What? I thought that was a good one!"

Several minutes later Clank and I have our arms cuffed behind our backs, with twenty or so Galactic Rangers looking ready to shoot us even for breathing the wrong way, and are being herded through the presidential compound. One of them's muttering under his breath, talking over his communication line to Sasha, probably.

"You know, I discovered I don't like being handcuffed. Or being accused of a terrorist," I tell Clank with a sigh. I also found it pretty ironic I'd been running from the cops not too long ago only to get arrested anyway for something completely unrelated to us, but decided to keep that out of the air.

"Do not fret, Ratchet. I am sure this is a misunderstanding that will be cleared. Then we can take you to a doctor and allow them to examine you for any problems that need to be rectified."

"Uh…woohoo?"

"Both of you, can it," says J45, shooting us a look from the side. "You sure enough make the act good. You been stalking the real deal for a while?"

"Maybe we _are_ the real deal and you've erred on the side of caution," I say. "Anyhow, let's just get this underway. I think I might forget my name and my blood type if I don't get to a doctor soon."

"If you do not mind my inquiry, what is the meaning behind all of those ships patrolling?" asks Clank. "Has there been a threat made to the Solanian president?"

"You mean you _don't_ know?" responds the solider, with a hint of skepticism in his tone. "The entire city's been on lockdown for hours. There's some _nutcase_ runnin' around thinking it's alright to fire his peashooter at President Phyronix's ship."

He nudges me in the side with his gun, which was getting really annoying. "So that's why we're all goin' crazy. Unhappy that your ruse got blown over, eh? You'll be singing your last song on the way to the execution chamber."

It would've been a mistake to tell him to shove his gun in his face and pull the trigger, right?

Just when we're about to enter another building one Ranger in front of us shoulder checks another, pointing. I peer over, spotting a hover vehicle touching down several yards away piloted by the President's daughter herself. "Yo, Sash!" I call as she approaches the group. Of course, I get a nudge—oh okay, _three_ nudges from three separate guns, all to different points in my back.

"Quiet, you!" someone hisses from behind me. I can spot Sasha partially through the sea of Rangers, and by the way her widened eyes are looking across the group she hasn't seen us yet. "Is that Ratchet's voice I hear? Where are you?"

"Sorry for paging you Ms. Phyronix, but we got a hold of these two troublemakers," says J45, the wall of Rangers moving aside to show us in full view. "Thought you might have to check this case out for yourself."

Sasha's brows are furrowed a bit, and she has this vague expression as she looks at us. Then she speaks, slowly, "I…had thought I was told that you restrained two suspected terrorists?"

"Yea! Don't be fooled Ms. Phyronix, they've crashed a ship into the compound. I think there's room for suspicion that the two of them," he swings his arm up, simultaneously clubbing me in the lower back, "are rouges in disguise, trying to instigate an attack against President Phyronix!"

Sasha silently looks at Clank, then to me. I can see she's tempted to tell them to release us, but I sense slight hesitance there. Likely her official status rearing its head. She couldn't know for sure herself it was us, but wanted to.

When it came down to it, it was my negligence that started it. "Sorry about the wall," I admit, "I had a little lapse in brain function."

"Hmm…well, I think this can be easily resolved. Ratchet, what'd you get me for my twenty-first birthday?"

"Didn't I build you that robot that sneezed out flaming blobs of snot?"

She smiles. "Yes, and what a handful that thing was to keep from burning down my entire office. Clank, is it raining?"

He studies the sky for a moment. "It may be, but I do not think it is."

"And that's _that_. Rangers, authorization complete. Release them at once, please."

"Ah…M-Miss Phyronix are ya sure?" a Ranger to my rear calls, nudging me. "Why, _this_ one could slit your throat with a case knife and feed offa ya!"

There's a lot of disturbed groaning throughout the troupe. "What is _with_ you today, H69? Did your pet squid die or something?" someone mutters.

"In ANY case," I cut in, "I eat meat, but not the way you described it. I mean, I wouldn't eat any part of Sasha anyway, I'm just saying that…. I'll just end this entire conversation and hush now."

Sasha laughs. "I don't think I'd hear words spoken so articulately from an impostor, that's for sure."

"I predict that between the figures 0 and 1 and substituting each second as a theoretical flip of a coin, the odds of the ensuing conversation heading to a place of discomfort would equal a hundred percent for the probability of event A, or directly put, Ratchet's increasing embarrassment," Clank reports. "Psychologically, taking in general fluctuation of emotion in his tone and regarding body language he has apparently embarrassed himself in front of many colleagues and a previous love interest-turned-close friend."

It looks like it's Clank's way with words that fully convinces the Rangers it's us and they're shocked with silence. One of them creaks over from embarrassment, falling to the ground, and another hurriedly unlocks our restraints. I turn to face Clank, putting my hands on my hips. "Remember what I told you about the concept of subtext, Clank?"

"Yes, with clarity."

" _And,_ how there's some things that we gotta, I don't know…maybe _keep_ inside our little robot head?"

He blinks. "I do believe your embarrassment is still apparent from the amount of blood rushing into your face."

"He's right, I don't ever recall it being gold _and_ red," Sasha adds with a mischievous grin.

"...I'm sure you're just imagining it," I say, averting my head.

"We're sorry about that all that, Sarge…" says Ranger J45, the rest of them nodding in agreement. "But wow, with piloting skills like that, could you blame us one bit for mistaking you for someone else?"

"It's all good. It was totally my fault anyway…distracted driving'll do something like that to ya," I say. I may still be a _bit_ steamed after getting nudged so much there may have been a bruise forming on my shoulders and upper back, though.

With the danger on the low, the Rangers disperse to their posts and Clank and I go with Sasha back through the compound. Now there's a grim look to her face, giving me the impression she'd a brief laugh back there and was now back to business.

"Sorry about that mess we made, Sasha. It looks like you're too busy to be dealing with that," I say.

"It's a wall," she shrugs, flashing a security card to let us in through a gate. "Besides, I'm glad to see two friendly faces dropping in."

"Yeah…we came to see if you were alright. Clank got a message from you and it got cut short. What was that about?"

"I'm sorry to have made you both worry. When alarms were raised earlier, the Defense Center and communication lines went down for some reason," Sasha says grimly. "I tried contacting you to ask for your assistance, and you know the rest. We've managed to get things up and running since then but haven't figured out what caused the power outage earlier."

She glances up above, at the sky. The ground is filled with shadows darting on the surface like pond skaters on water, courtesy of the ships above flying on their routes. "Of course, that was nearly the least of our worries today, with what occurred a while ago…"

"What happened? I recall one of the Ranger mentioning your father had been threatened," says Clank.

"That's right. He had been coming back from Metropolis to negotiate a city wide increase in defense for an event next month. Right when his ship was coming down near the compound, we heard a ground shot. A missile had been fired, and it'd struck close to one of the rear turbines."

"Oh man, is he alright?!" I ask.

"Thankfully, yes. His ship made a bit of a rough emergency landing, but he's fine," We come up on a door to the compound and Sasha flashes her thumb on the pad that's on the wall next to it. We're granted access and slip in past the door, which shuts and locks itself behind us. "But it was likely an attack like that was premeditated, which indicates to us it was an assassin looking for one way or another to take him out."

"No tags on the perp?"

"Minimal. Ground support noticed that the missile fired was unlike any munition they'd seen. They checked weapon records for Solana, Bogon, and even Polaris to see if they could get a match. It looks like the weapon _may_ have been some type of remote-guided launcher, by the way the missile acted while it was in flight."

Clank and I glance at each other, speechless. At the most we'd imagined it to have been a minor inconvenience on her side, maybe even just a little connection error, but I don't think either of us were expecting this to get blown into proportion so quickly. I think now more than ever Sasha needed our help.

"So that's why all of Marcadia has red flags raised," Sasha says, leading us down a long hallway. "We've secured the President and heightened security. For all we know this crook's still out there…"

We round a corner, and run into a lone teleporter. Sasha wordlessly pulls a device, re-configuring the pad to activate. Clank and I follow her through, a bit startled at where we're lead out. It's a grayish pink metal corridor with red highlighted corners about ten yards long. There's a Galactic Ranger standing at attention every other five feet on both sides of the hall.

There's one playing jacks nearby but he straightens up quickly, flashing a salute as we pass.

"This is a safety bunker, accessible by very few means," Sasha says, deactivating the teleporter. "Fifteen meters below ground and crafted for purposes such as this. My father is here now and will likely remain in hiding for a while."

"I see he will be receiving a momentous amount of protection down here!" Clank says with a hint of admiration, running a finger along the wall. "Ahh yes, the walls are infused with Raritanium and imported Carbonox alloy! It would take approximately several months of constant bombing to even penetrate the surface."

"Do those months include holidays, too?" I ask him.

"We started constructing it right after that incident with Nefarious and the Biobliterator to ensure no harm comes to our leading figure," Sasha's face suddenly gets this weird, almost cringey look to it. "But…as of now, it's a bit…crowded."

We stop outside the armored doors, Sasha saluting the two Rangers there aside. "Crowded?" I ask. "Do you have a room down here too, Sasha?"

She grimaces. "Yes, but…as of now I've allowed it to be converted to a guest room. You see, my father was not the only person to be on the end of hostility. Not too long ago we received news that someone else with… _presidential experience_ , despite the fact they are no longer in office, has received similar threats as well. It was all I could do to offer my assistance…"

"…oh please no," I say.

Sasha turns to the door to knock. "But I'm afraid our hands have ended up becoming a bit full too full here. We simply bit off more than we can chew, and that's not to mention our resources are disappearing twice, no, _thrice_ times as fast…"

"No!"

"And bottom line, I'm afraid that my diplomacy simply cannot allow for this matter to go unheeded. I will offer you my condolences."

"For the love of all that is good and holy, NO!"

Sasha knocks once, and then the doors are immediately opened from inside. She offers a courteous-but-mostly-curt nod to the person on the other side. "Good afternoon, Captain Qwark."

It's him. Standing in a pink robe with matching slippers, holding a mug that says, 'I Love Me'. Qwark spreads out his arms, moments from pulling us all into a hug.

"Why, Ratchet and Clank! I just _knew_ I'd be seeing your bright faces soon!"

I've forgotten how to wield equipment and weapons, how to fly a ship and worst of all, Qwark is standing in front of me with a pink robe on.

 _"…NOOOOOO!"_

Oh, give me a _break._


	2. No Jumping the Gun

"I don't think I can take any more of this. I'm going to have to get committed soon."

It was only five minutes in of hearing Qwark's story of how he managed to escape his vacation getaway with three toothpicks and the leftovers from a Galaxy Burger.

"Sans the part about being put into an asylum, I agree," Clank says. "Perhaps we can speed this along by asking Sasha what she needs us to do in relation to Captain Qwark."

"Nothing you might not like, if I had to suggest," President Phyronix says. He had joined us not too long after we came in, thankfully wearing real clothes. "From the way Sasha has been talking, you might have to hear Captain Qwark talk all the way to his protection facility as his escort."

"Oh. That would make sense, she stressed needing some recuperation here," Clank says. "Still it is suspicious how Captain Qwark is being persecuted in the same time frame as you, President Phyronix. And there have been no clues as to why you are both being threatened?"

"I'm afraid not, no," says President Phyronix grimly. "We're all in the dark cowering from a danger that's likely hovering around our heads as we speak. From what I understand, Sasha thought it'd be better if we're kept in our own gaurded facilities to make the spread of resources and management a bit more even, 'til we can get to the bottom of this, of course. I believe she has Captain Qwark's destination set somewhere in the Polaris galaxy."

"Alright. I think I understand the situation at hand. I had thought that coming here would yield substantial results. Oh, Ratchet? Are you alright? You have turned a bit pale..."

Qwark swoops in suddenly, wrapping Clank in one of his trademark headlock/hugs. "That's because he can't _wait_ to escort me to my new vacation hotspot! Just think! The three of us in a ship traveling through the cosmos, on the way to another dramatic chapter of the novel that's our lives!" Qwark throws his arms up, tossing Clank away like a leaf. "Ahh, just think of the stories that have yet to be born! It's making me tear up a little!"

A clearly perturbed Sasha sits down next to me. "I'm so sorry, but I don't have the patience for this now."

"This whole thing just might be it, what drives me to drink," I say. "Where do you want us to take him, Sasha?"

She smiles a little. "If it's any help, I was talking with Talwyn earlier and we both agreed to use her space station as a holding area for Qwark until the danger dies down. It's got a lot of defenses, and it's going to have you, after all. But I'm sure you won't mind being in close quarters with her?"

"Thank you, Sash…it's about time I went to see her, anyway. I told her we'd be down after this summer's jobs were wrapped up. Guess what we just got done with before we left Veldin?"

"Must've been meant to be, as I see it. Captain Qwark's ship is in the hangar, nearly done with its tune-ups. And don't worry about Aphelion. We'll fix her for you and have her sent to the Apogee Space Station."

"Can I get a free pass to kill Qwark?"

"I've got the faith it won't escalate that far," Sasha says with the biggest grin. Prod me while I'm in a corner, eh? "Besides Ratchet, just devise a schedule with Clank, Qwark and Talwyn. The Apogee Space Station's huge, I'm sure there's going to be plenty of downtime where you don't have to be around…"

We both look over at Qwark, who's doing a one-armed handstand and juggling Clank in his other one.

"…that."

"Yeah, and before we leave I've got to delve a little into Qwark's business, see what he's been up to for these past few months," I say. "Because you know the guy does things that come back to bite him in the rear—and nearly almost always by extension, biting _us_ in the rear."

"Pfft, _what?_ " Qwark asks. He's suddenly hovering over my shoulder. "Now, Ratchet, I know I've become quite a handful to you given the circumstances, but I can't help it if I'm so awesome and great people want to kill me! Why do you think it's for a different reason?"

"Because I've replaced awesome and great with pigheaded and oblivious."

"I do admit that I've done some rather…uh, uncouth," he glances back at Clank, who nods. "yes that's the word, things, but I mean come on…when have I brought my bestest friends in the universe into the crossfire?"

There's a pause in the room. "Intentionally?" Qwark adds.

I open my mouth with the intent to tear his argument to shreds and send the scraps to burn in hell. Then I notice Clank in the background.

He's shaking his head slightly, lowering his hand down in the 'take it easy' gesture.

Telling me to lay it on Qwark gently. I inhale a bit and let it out. Right. Patience, I've got to dig for it. I refocus on Qwark, who's looking at me closely. "It's just that you have a track record of triggering events that…get blown into literal cosmic proportions. Like well, Nefarious. Couldn't you say he started his path to evil partially because of the way you treated him in high school?"

"Maybe! But maybe, there's also the fact that there are some people just born evil! And some people born good! Like me!" He brings a hand down on my shoulder, dragging me close. "Er, like us, I should say…what would be a hero without his sidekicks?"

"A pretentious blowhard without an understanding of the concept of morality. So, it's just been causal life for you lately, huh?"

"Yep!"

"Haven't antagonized anyone these past few months?"

"Nope!"

"Paid your bills? Kept your stories to the press clean? Mowed your neighbor's lawn on time?"

"...who are you, my Mom?" he groans, pushing me away. "You worry too much! Besides, I'll have you know I've only talked to the press _twenty-four times_ these past few weeks, and all my stories have been clear, cut, and absolutely clean!"

Sasha shoots me a doubtful look that clearly indicates she doesn't believe him, and I shrug. I'm tempted to assume he was hiding something crucial as usual, but strangely it did seem that he was telling the truth. "Huh. Well I honestly can't imagine why someone wants you dead…" I say.

The communication device on Sasha's watch gives a trio of rings. She looks at it, then stands up soon after. "Ah, it's about time. I've got to head up for a facetime meeting with the prime Minister of Novalis. There's a bit of a fuss over there with the crime and he wants some guidance counseling…"

"May I accompany you, Sasha?" President Phyronix asks. She looks a bit hesitant.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Dad. I don't want to risk you leaving your bunker and we don't have an idea of what type of threat we're dealing with."

"The only threat I'm feeling is the stiffness in my joints," the President laughs. "I've been down here for a minute. Can't let your old man stretch his legs every once in a while?"

Sasha frowns a bit. "I'm afraid not. I'd rather you catch arthritis in your old age than be murdered before you can reach it."

"Killshot," I mutter to Clank, who nods.

Qwark nudges Sasha. "Oh, come on, Sash, you've—"

"Don't call me that."

"—got to respect your elder's wishes! So what if he walks out and gets obliterated by several ASMs? Let him live his moment!"

"Talk about pushing the point further away," I say. "Ey you, Mr. Former President? You're our responsibility now, so let's leave the Phyronixes and get a move on."

"Much obliged, Ratchet," Sasha says. "I'll reconfigure that teleporter wirelessly to send you three directly to the hangar," she turns to talk to her dad, her tone more hushed. And that was that. She trusts us with the rest.

"That's our cue," I say to Qwark, pulling him away from them. "C'mon, let's get you to where you need to go."

"You know what's not fair?! I was just minding my own business when all my plans literally get blown out the water," Qwark snorts. "Right as I was on Pokitaru, relaxing on vacation!"

I pause for a moment, blinking slowly as I raise an eyebrow at him. "…on vacation from _what?_ "

Qwark lifts a finger and opens his mouth. Then he pauses, tapping his chin. "Huh, now that's a million bolt question…"

"Come on."

Clank and I shove ourselves against him, pushing him back to the door. He doesn't make it easy of course.

"W-Wait! I need to go back for my loofa sponge set!"

Miraculously we manage to wrestle him down the hallway and into the teleporter, ending up at the hangar Sasha was talking about. Sitting in the middle of some grounded patrol vessels was a green ship about the size of a house, parked directly underneath the open roof. We navigate through the traffic of Rangers walking around, trying to avoid bumping into any of them since most were carrying ship parts or equipment.

One of them is standing directly by Qwark's ship, probably running some last minute diagnostics on it. Qwark marches straight up to him.

"I'd like to have all my luggage ported from the underground bunker and to my ship, if you don't mind! And did you leave my deluxe air freshener where I'd left it?! It was a present to me from a fellow vigil worker, and I will not stand for any ounce of blemishing nor mutilation upon it!"

I'm pretty sure if the Ranger had the features to do it, he'd be giving Qwark a pretty bizarre look. "...uh...?" is all he manages.

"Qwark, T34 is a technician," I tell him. "It's not his job to play porter. Find someone else, at least. Or you could do it yourself…"

"Nonsense! I'll quickly employ a workforce suitable for the job!"

"Clank, go with him!" I say quickly. He doesn't even have time to say anything before Qwark snatches him up anyway and runs off. I feel like I'm already making a mistake as I watch them disappear among the dozens of Rangers. In a poetic way it does accurately represent how things have been slipping out of my control lately, whether I wanted them or not. I massage a hand to my temple. T34 pats me on the back.

"Not one of your best days?"

"It's pretty meh. Though I can say at the same time it's nowhere near one of my worst ones," I try to smile but I think it manifests as a pained grimace. "So…everything okay here?"

"Yeah, we heard about the news from Ms. Sasha. We just got done with Captain Qwark's ship and it's ready to go. In addition," he leans in lowering his voice, "she also mentioned the idea of you having some…backup while you're in the Polaris Galaxy. After we switch our rounds in a few and have everyone accounted for, we're sending a troupe over to help ya. Sound good?"

I felt like going back and giving Sasha a hug. "Sure does."

He snaps his fingers, then reaches behind himself. "Ah, right! 'for I forget. We managed to pull these from your Aphelion, Sarge," he pulls out two wrenches, one of them mine and the other Alister's. "Figured you might need'em, where you're going."

"Oh thanks, I nearly forgot!" I say, taking them. If I couldn't fool with weapons for a minute, I'd sure need to go the old fashioned way. Uh, the old, _old_ fashioned way. "Just out of curiosity, does Qwark's ship come with a warp drive?"

"Ah, no," T34 says, his tone pitying, "'fraid not…bit of an older model."

That meant an extended flight. Hours. In a tight space with Qwark. For _hours._

I know it seems like I'm being ungrateful after all Sasha has already done for me, but THIS was going to be a test of my will. And I think my headaches are slowly becoming chronic because lo and behold, I felt another one trying to slip in as I glance over, seeing Qwark loudly commandeering a line of Rangers carrying luggage up the docking ramp.

"You alright there, Sarge?"

I think my next smile comes off as being psychotic, and there's this weird twitch in my eye. "Yep."

This was fine.

* * *

As soon as the Rangers are done getting Qwark's abnormally large amount of possessions on the ship and do some last minute check-ups, we're ready to go. I'm the last to walk up the docking ramp, carrying my wrenches over my shoulder and holding a toolbox T34 had given me. "Hey! What are you doing?" I ask Qwark.

He quickly sets down the bed he'd dragged out from the ship's back cabin next to the CommStation in the middle of the floor, looking like he'd just gotten caught.

"Oh, Ratchet! I, I was just…moving this out here because I thought…well, maybe you'd like to conk out, right after a long day of piloting a ship! Very thoughtful of me, eh?"

"Ehhh, no," I answer, eyeing him suspiciously as I maneuver around the ridiculous amount of suitcases and bags, setting the toolbox down underneath the control panel. "Seems'ta me you're trying to give yourself a little extra room back there instead."

"Aw, come on! Look at how small you are compared to me, I need the extra space or else I get cramped up!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just be glad I'm not too fussy about where I sleep. Where's Clank?"

I stand up, looking around for him. The ship's interior was pretty large; there was about twenty feet reaching from the front of the ship to the CommStation, which marked the center of the floor, then the same amount of distance from that point reaching to the back cabin. And I could still barely see the floor with all the luggage that Qwark had shipped in. And then in most places it was stacked three feet or higher. There was no way I could see Clank in all this.

"Clank?" I listen closely for a reply for a moment, then tilt my head over the right. It was muffled, but I knew I heard something. "Keep talking buddy, so I can find you."

Qwark reaches the spot before I do, then looks around for a moment before selecting a draw bag. "Oooh…guess I should've checked on him after I tossed him my records…" he pulls it away.

Clank sits up, then slowly tilts his head back and looks at Qwark. If looks could kill this entire hanger would've gone up in flames. "Thank you for removing that," Clank says, his tone and expression completely blank. "I will assume that you did not hear me when I told you I was unable to catch the weight and sustain it?"

"Sorry about that little guy, I was in the zone. I could barely see you over," Qwark glances around at the widespread chaos on the floor, "all this stuff..."

"Al-right, ground rules," I say. "We're workin' on pretty tense terms here, so I need you to not do anything that'll make me want to shoot you out the air lock. First off—" I point to the bed, "no more moving stuff, alright? Secondly, do whatever you do in your free time, but try to not come out of that cabin unless you can help it. We're the ones trying to keep you low profile here. And no using _any_ communication apparatus. Act like it's just me and Clank on here."

"Does this mean I can't watch my trashy romances on the Holo-Screen?"

He catches the expression on my face, then sighs. "O-kay, I'll take that as a strict no…fine! I understand you and Clank have a lot to deal with, so just get me to the Apogee Space Station and I'll do my thing there!"

"That's what I wanna hear," I say. "I know your plans got disrupted, but just think of the fact that you're still alive and can snag a martini on the beach later. What even happened when you were on Pokitaru?"

"Someone bombed my resort house," he pouts. "I was hosting a luau on the beach when there was this big explosion that blows all the windows out of it! It wasn't cheap y'know, summer prices were crazy there! Then some witnesses tell me that there was a suspicious person hanging around the area, so…"

"So you ran to Marcadia for some of the best protection in the galaxy?"

He opens his arms up wide. "And I ended up getting it, right? I could complain about Sasha's limited services, but…I won't! I appreciate her effort of Goodwill!"

I manage to get out of the way of his hug, but Clank isn't so lucky. "So since you understand the fact that there's a likely assassin on the loose try to take heed to my words, will ya?"

"Right! And I'm too young to die!" By the next time I blink Clank is crashing to the ground, Qwark's gone in a flash, and the back cabin doors are swinging shut. After a second he sticks his head back out. "So I'll just be camping back here in my safety bunker, you two don't get too rowdy out there!"

The door shuts behind him. Clank audibly sighs. "Well," I mutter to him, "guess that problem took care of itself."

"Ratchet, we have another issue. You did not tell Sasha about your inability to fly, did you?

Oh... _crap._

"…no," I say. "Because I'd literally forgotten about that issue in the first place. Well! This might be an slight problem, because I don't think there's a Ranger on standby who can pilot the ship. Let me see something real quick..."

With Clank lurking around my heels, I walk over towards the ship's controls. "Ratchet, the controls are within my reach. I will be able to operate it just fine. Just do not touch any—"

I reach a hand forward. Before I can push the button that had caught my attention Clank jumps up and knocks my hand away. He narrows his eyes up at me, tapping the area next to the button. "—thing. Those were the lock-on missiles."

"Huh? How did you know that? I thought those were the headlights."

"Because it is marked specifically for its intended purpose. And what type of non-submersible spacecraft utilizes headlights?"

"One that…fine, you got me."

"You must sit this one out, Ratchet," Clank says, jumping up on the pilot seat. It looks really weird to me, like I was watching something out of another reality. "I heard you bring up the suggestion of a doctor earlier and if you were not solely jesting, we can find one in Polaris who can help you."

"Does this mean I have to sit and do nothing for hours? I think I just might start sobbing over here."

Clank glances over his shoulder. "Earlier in passing, Captain Qwark expressed slight interest in running for re-election if conditions ended up being right. What do you think of that?"

"I'd end up being one of his campaign detractors."

"Then I know what you can do while I fly. Perhaps if you discuss your views about his future with Captain Qwark, time will pass by faster?"

"Thanks, wisenheimer," I say, sitting down in the co-pilot seat. "If you weren't over there smiling I'd say you were being serious."

"Heh heh…I am sorry, I saw the opportunity and could not help it," he grins apologetically. There was no way I could stay annoyed at that face. I lean back, kicking my feet up on the dash. "You sure you know what you're doing over there?"

"I am positive, even if it has been quite some time since I have last piloted a ship," Clank says, making several adjustments on the panel. "Though, I have learned from the best, observing you all these years."

See? I can't be annoyed at Clank for more than a half second.

"Okay. If you say so..." I say. I was already getting anxious and we hadn't even taken off. If I really turned crazy over these next few hours, I'd probably end up snapping and going to Qwark for entertainment.

That sounded really hopeless. I didn't want to sink that deep into dark hole of desperation, but it was a long, long way to the goal and I was already stalling before the trek began. Having _any_ type of distraction might help this anxiety peter off some.

Speaking of distractions, at least I didn't feel as scatterbrained when I did after that egg-splosion. That was a relief. And so far besides a headache, (which may still be a remnant of Aphelion's crash, or a byproduct of trying to stay patient with Qwark; hell, maybe a mixture of both) I felt normal.

Sure, _normal_. As if no longer understanding how a ship's hydraulic system operates or forgetting how to fire rounds from a gun was remotely normal. I couldn't…stay like this forever, could I? The thought makes my mouth dry as it sinks in. No, I couldn't think like that.

It was _un_ thinkable. It was a joke, a cruel one.

"…heh. Heh-heh," I utter, earning me a curious look from Clank. I lean forward, lying my head down on the dash. "Ah hah…sorry, I…I'm just coming to realize, again, how weird the universe's sense of humor is…"

There's a sudden burst of air really close to my head and I'm startled up,noticing the air freshener shaped like Qwark on the dash for the first time. As the mixed smell of grilled ham and daffodils settles I absently poke at it, continuing, "I mean…everything happens for a reason, see. Always at the right place and right time. I've come to learn that…but sometimes, it's still hard to take a joke when it seems so much bigger than you can comprehend."

Clank doesn't say anything. I'm actually glad he doesn't. There are times where you just don't say anything, let silence speak truthful words at a louder volume. He understands that perfectly.I sigh. Out the corner of my eye I can see him looking at me, concerned.

"…I'll be fine, pal. It's just something a bit hard to swallow. I guess I'll just have to be patient for now, hope for the best. Besides…"

I shoot a smirk at him, trying not to laugh at how the seat belt was too big for him and draped around his body loosely, or at how he had to stand up in the seat to even reach the flight stick. "Can't have you takin' my place from here on out, can I?"

His eyes smile. "No, I do not think I would be able to carry you on my back without proper arrangements. By the way Ratchet, I do believe I have an idea of someone in Polaris who can assist you."

"Really? Already? Who?!"

"Dr. Croid."

There's several, strong beats of silence. Then I get up, walk over, unbuckle his seat belt and grab him from his chair, holding him upside down in the air.

"Ratchet—"

"I'm sorry, who?" I ask, raising my voice. "I didn't quite catch that. Did I just hear you say, Dr. Croid?"

"...no."

"You really want me to act up right now, dontcha?"

"It is not my problem if your hearing has gone defective."

"Oh- _ho,_ really now?" I tense my arms up, then swing them up and let go of Clank. He flies straight up and does a flip in the air, then I catch him when he comes back down. He doesn't get a chance to complain because I do it again. Then again. And again.

"So, you mean to tell me that my hearing's goin' out. Hmm. Don't know about _that,_ cause I'm hearing _allllll_ the malarkey coming outta your mouth."

After I catch him following a particularly high toss he holds his hands up, pointing them to the ground. "I concede!"

"Oh, no you don't," I give him another toss.

"Fine…!" he caves finally, after the next round. "Stop spinning me and I will cease antagonizing you."

"There we go, that had more heart to it."

When I let him down Clank shoots me a look then gets to the controls. "Anyway, I do believe it is time for us to stop lollygagging and get a move on..."

I had to give the guy his credit though, because he sure as heck maneuvers us out of that hangar like no one's business. As the ground gets farther and farther beneath us, I'm still a bit psyched out. "Uh, wow," I say finally, as we're breaking out of Marcadia's atmosphere.

"Are you shocked at my capabilities of flying a large leisure vessel within the depths of the known universe?"

"Nope, never doubted you for a second, Clank. But still, pretty impressive for someone whose head barely comes over the steering mechanism," I crack. Then I feel someone breathing down my neck. "Okay Qwark, what happened to you staying in there until we got to Talwyn's?"

He slides into view, one brow raised up higher than the other as he looks between us. "Uh, am I missing opposite day or something? Why's everything all backwards? According to the normal business, Mr. Short and Fuzzy should be flying!"

I reflexively cringe at the word 'normal'. "Truth be told, the odds of us all dying is significantly lower with Clank in charge."

"Approximately eighty-nine percent," Clank says. I'd ask how he came up with that statistic almost instantly but decided moments like this were too unorthodox for my mind to comprehend. Qwark narrows his eyes in thought, looking between us suspiciously.

"Now wait a minute…I know when something's up! And now that I've witnessed this scene, it's obvious!"

I raise an eyebrow but otherwise keep my face unemotional, feeling a slight pang of nervousness. What was he suggesting, there was no way he could've figured it out…

"Ratchet, you're useless and letting Clank do all the work!"

" _Wh..what?!_ " I say, barely avoiding letting my jaw drop. "You…how did you…?"

He slaps the back of my chair, nearly knocking it and me to the floor. "Just kidding! That was some insane theory I came up with. Heh! Ratchet, unable to pilot a ship due to him being utterly incompetent!? That's nothing but a conspiracy!"

I wasn't sure if I wanted to be relieved at his simplicity or annoyed at the fact that I was reminded again of my incapabilities. I cross my arms and look off, making the attempt to change the subject. " _So,_ Qwark, what's that you've been up to besides vacation? Wild escapades? Romantic getaways? Block parties?"

"Silly Ratchet, everyone knows block parties are just for common fodder," he scoffs. "Ironically before all of this hoo-hah I'd just gotten done selecting members for my post-presidency Secret Service! Still got some of the office benefits y'know, and I 've decided it'd be nice to go out of my way to form a team of troopers that think only of one thing—protecting me! It's one of the many ways to keep me immortalized, huh?"

He grins. Reality shatters.

My ears stiffen, a cold sweat starts on my back, and my pupils constrict. Because I can already, _already_ sense impending disaster.

"Who'd you induct?" I ask casually, sounding more like I cared instead of sounding paranoid about Qwark's life choices.

"Well, for my first entry I've gotten a nice fellow from Igliak. An Agorian, used to work at a morgue and said he wanted to move on to bigger and better things after getting his doctorate. A smart man, from the get-go! Really dedicated to ki—I, I mean," Qwark flinches back, " _incapacitate_ people who…threaten me. He even volunteered to give me a body count to show his loyalty! I had to have him."

"And what a pleasant guy he sounds like, Qwark. If you ever run for re-election that charisma of his would help make a killing for you."

"I know, right? He'd ring in so much voter popularity for me! Oh, there's also Ms. Templemuffin. She bakes deserts for the team!"

I spin my hand in a circle. "…who else?"

Qwark taps his two pointer fingers together. "…Skrunch makes three? We're a solid team!" he adds, at the look of disbelief on my face. "See here, Ratchet. I think I'm quite aware of what I'm doing! After all, you've got to choose the right people that'll support you, so I've chosen mine!"

"Yeah, and on the flipside, they could potentially tear ya down as well," I respond, giving him a pointed look that I'm sure he misses the meaning of. Then I duck down, his hand whistling though the air as he tries to clap me on the back.

"No, don't be like that. You gotta have faith in your compatriots, don't you?"

"Of course. But let me refrain—it's best if you start by choosing someone who DOESN'T volunteer to kill people to get hired. Uh, what's Ms. Templemuffin's baking like?"

"Like heaven transfigured into the mortal realm in the form of unfettered, sweet delicate goodness."

"You can keep her then, but it'd be for sentimental reasons," it surely wasn't because I wanted in on some of her baking action.

"Hey, I've suddenly got an idea!"

I barely avoid cringing. Those words, from Qwark, felt like Armageddon itself was approaching sooner.

"How about I swing you and Clank into my Secret Service? It'll complete the group!" Qwark yaps excitedly, shaking my shoulder. "You could even convince Talwyn to join in! I'm sure she wouldn't mind, after all she is helping us now with her resources. It's almost perfect! Well, welcome to the team, Ratchet and Clank!"

I don't fight the forced initiation, but I do point out its obscurity. "Qwark, we already spend a good chunk of our time helping you stay alive. Do you really have to add us to some group to verify that?"

"Of course! You're a part of the family, not the neighborhood kids that just come over for holidays!"

"I…yeah. M'kay," I say, leaning back and folding my arms behind my head. "I'm so ecstatic you've considered me for the job. Hope I follow up to your standards."

"Yeah, that's the…" Qwark squints at me for a moment, then scoffs and puts his hands on his hips. "You know what, it's a good thing Sasha had us going to your bae's crib, or else I may have to get you committed!"

"I've considered the notion."

"Well, the good part for you is that while I'll be in my safety hovel, you have Talwyn there! I'm sure she could find some way to tone down some hostility in you, eh Ratchet?"

It's the tone of his voice that makes the question way less innocent in context.

"…get outta here with that," I say, hearing a suspicious giggle from Clank's direction. Qwark winks at me.

"Ah-haaa, but that smile of yours indicates hope, does it not? Got any plans for when you get to the Apogee Space Station, Ratchet? It's been all summer and you two haven't seen each other!"

"Shut the mouth, Qwark!"

"You've got to let the rooster out to crow, Ratchet, no need to be _ashamed._ Just remember to take it easy if you're feeling out of practice."

A split second later he's ducking as the co-pilot seat goes flying at his head. Clank practically jumps onto the flight stick as I snatch his chair out from underneath him. I pull it up over my head and advance on Qwark, who finds it right in the mind to flee. He practically soars over his sea of luggage in several leaps and bounds, throwing himself into back cabin.

A second later I reach the spot, hearing the sound of a lock clicking into place. "Sorry, personal time for Qwark!" he calls. "Mind the vibrating noises, will you?"

"Yeah, _stay_ in there."

* * *

I didn't have any complaints, though. For such a big thing, the ship was pretty fast and despite the disproportionate sizes, it probably could've matched Aphelion's speed. We're seeing about half of Solana behind us within the next hour.

That could've also been Clank taking shortcuts I didn't even know where possible. He tried explaining that by taking the 'hypotenuse of the directed route the energy efficiency would be compromised and the estimated time to be elapsed would decrease,' but I'm sure all that went in one ear and out the other just as quickly.

"I just feel really bad about what I did to Aphelion," I sigh, lounging back and watching the snowy blue of planet Hoven passing to our left. "What if something like that happens again? She's already been wrecked enough times as it is, but what if…there's a crash she can't make it out of?"

"I daresay it will not be this one," Clank mutters. "And Ratchet, I have been thinking about this ever since it happened, but cannot find any ounce of data within my memory banks to identify this issue. After that explosion earlier, there was some strange type of residual energy that lingered in the surrounding area. I had never felt anything like it and cannot be sure, but I am positive I detected signs of isotopic decay."

"Isotopic decay?" I ask. I vaguely remember overhearing something like that in the past, likely during one of the times I'd been in the room working on something with Clank running one of his science programs within earshot. "Doesn't that have something to do with, uh...really dangerous and unstable chemicals?"

"Very accurate," Clank glances at me, tapping the side of his head with a finger, "Perhaps the specific problem is not _just_ you hitting your head, but the fact that you have been exposed to unnatural levels of synthetic compounds."

I grimace at the new intel. That didn't sound like anything I wanted to hear, in fact it sounded worse than just receiving a head injury. And it seemed plausible; if my brain really was being affected like that, would more of my memory deteriorate? And why just my knowledge of weapons and machinery? Why not anything else?

I may as well stop piling on more questions because they'd only want me crave more unforeseeable answers. I lean back, staring out the window. The idea of having the inquiries in my head felt toxic, like I wasn't even supposed to be thinking them. I shake my head. Part of me wanted to stop dwelling on this, but what overpowers that still is my denial, the hope that everything could just _come back._

Wait…I had an idea.

I duck down, taking a hold of the toolbox the head technician had given me in case of emergencies. I pull it out and sit down in front of it. Maybe, just maybe if I got my hands on things like equipment it could jog something. There were no weapons obviously, but I was using what I had. So over the next several minutes I take things out at a much slower pace than normal, trying to identify each item as I set it out.

And there was the problem at its roots. I could look at this thing in my right hand and say it's a locking bolt, or this tool I'm holding my left hand and say it's a ratchet.

But as I look around this circle of equipment I've surrounded myself with, I can't figure out how to _apply_ them. How to connect their identification with their function, then to their intended purpose. It didn't matter if it was something fundamentally simple, or it required the knowledge of rocket science to understand. It was like I was a pre-teen again, learning everything for the first time.

I set the tools down, standing up. I don't know how long I've been sitting down, but my legs are a stiff. "It's like having all the bones of a skeleton and knowing their names, but you can't put them together in a coherent form."

I motion at the ship's control panel. "But even then, I'm talking about the simpler things I have recollection of. Mechanically operating something using a set amount of skills is out of the question. Brings to mind the real reason why I didn't take a weapon with us to Marcadia, huh?"

" _Oh…_ " Clank's voice is gravitated with realization and sympathy. I kneel down, starting to put away everything I had taken out and glancing over each thing as I place in the box. "…it's…aggravating," I admit. I felt…crippled. Qwark really hit the nail on the head earlier. _Useless._ The word resonates faintly in the back of my mind.

I ignore it, I try to, but it just...hurts. The truth hurts to think about. I don't think I could handle it, but it was there.

I felt…something, mucking around my emotions. Right now I was my own harshest critic, but that felt only halfway right. I could say that the other part was...my pride. Long ago I had stopped letting it flare up to prove its strength to others, content with letting it cool down to a more natural level as I matured. But now...it doesn't quite feel like it's where it needs to be. Maybe a bit on the downside.

Those two feelings were merging into an ugly emotion, yet I still can't place it. Augh, the word, the word…? I don't read dictionaries as a hobby like Clank does, but I pick up on a few things here and there. Inadequate? That's close. Inefficient? Getting warmer…

 _Insecure._

The realization is like a figurative bullet, piercing the fabrication that had veiled my mind.

Insecure. That hits home. That was it. It was so embarrassing to think about. I was starting to become ashamed of what I had become, even to myself. How was that possible? It shouldn't even _be_ possible.

My breathing becomes a bit shallow, and it feels like I'm getting tunnel vision. There's a keening noise building in my ears, growing louder and louder, blaring out the word over and over and it won't _stop._ Insecure. Insecure. Insecure—it makes my head almost want to _EXPLODE—_

"…Ratchet?"

I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding, the steam in my head dying down as I start to breathe again. My tone is even when I speak. "Yeah, Clank?"

Clank is peering at me from the controls, only able to see the top part of my head because my chair was in the way. "You appear to be showing signs of fatigue. Do you need to lie down?"

"Well…" I sigh, "Qwark did put the bed right there, might as well. I am feeling pretty drained," I dump the last of everything away, shutting the toolbox and pushing it back into place. Clank rotates his head around, following my movement. "When was the last time you ate, Ratchet?"

I have to think for a moment. "Uh like, right after that third project exploded and we had to euthanize it."

"That was roughly _thirteen_ hours ago," Clank says, his eyes narrowing the way they did when he got upset. Oh boy, he really didn't like it when I skipped out meals while working on projects. It happened often so I was completely ready for his ah, ahem, stock phrase that was coming.

"You cannot expect to be functional during your active periods if you continue to neglect your self-sufficiency. I need you to ingest something right this instant!"

"I will. Geez, I'm getting to Mother, the day was super busy," The back of the ship had the cabin, but on either sides of the doors there were ladders leading up to a small lounging loft near the ceiling of the ship. It takes me five minutes, _five_ , to trek across a forty-foot space. I nearly break my neck once or twice after slipping over something, and one time my ankle nearly gets caught as I fell. This was a disaster.

And I don't know who the hell Qwark expected to carry all of his luggage out from the ship and to his room, because I sure ain't.

"Hey Clank, what happened to that call you were supposed to return to that one fan of yours?" I ask him, as I ascend up to the loft. "You were with me in the garage all day, and not once did I hear you talking to anyone else."

"...I was going to," he calls, a hint of fluster dipping a bit into his normally stoic tone. "I had decided it would be better for me to focus on less…trivial matters until our workload was out the way."

" _Riiight_. Or you could be nervous about all that fan mail and love notes she sent to your inbox. Didn't this girl back up three post offices with stuff she wanted to give you?"

"…it is borderline obsession," Clank says, sounding legitimately horrified. "I cannot understand one person's abrupt fascination for myself. I grow weary I might wake up one day and see her peering in through the window at me!"

I crack up, making it to the top of the loft and opening the pantry. "So, things to take note of—we know she's got this nasally voice, as we heard from that," I snicker, " _untraceable_ audio message she sent you for your fifth SAC anniversary. Hold it...was she the one who gave you the pink handkerchief?"

"No. My co-worker gave me that."

"Oh, so even though this chick works alongside you, she still considers herself a fan, huh?"

"...it was a he."

" _Whoa_ ," I laugh, "Man Clank, you're a stud. Reelin' in _everybody!_ "

He makes an odd shrugging motion with his shoulders. "I suppose so. It appears that my fanbase is growing in diversity at the same rate it is increasing. Though, with this one overzealous fan I can safely say that is the first of her kind that I have seen."

"Y'know Clank, as a forewarning, there's always those particular fans that take their obsession way too far, heh…if you know what I mean."

Clank groans. Over the years I'd always told him he'd end up with at least one crazy stalker because of his movie business, and I think we've got ourselves a first place winner.

"But don't worry, man," I say, cracking a soda open, "we're heading far, far away, to the Polaris Galaxy. The odds of this girl following you are…well, still the same, theoretically."

"Oh, please do not say things like that..." Clank says. He cringes, altering our flight path to the right a bit. "And for goodness' sake, I hope not…"

I'm not quite sure what happened next. I think I passed out, but of course that was a given since I ate half of the food in the pantry while lying in an admittedly comfortable bed. And as if things weren't on the weird side when I was awake, it carries over to my sleep.

I dreamed that Talwyn slaps me, hard, and my head spins around off my body and flies towards President Phyronix, biting him in the back of the neck…except when he looks around, he speaks with Sasha's voice.

 _"How could you, Ratchet? I never thought it would come to this…"_

His body collapses out of view, revealing a shadowy line of Galactic Rangers. All of them are saluting, save for one. He's got his gun pointing right at me, and he fires. The brightness sparks in my vision and that was when I jolt awake, panting. I'm not a fan of trippy dreams and my heart is beating slightly faster than normal. For a moment I hold my head. It wasn't hurting much, but there's a bit of pressure and I felt dizzy since I'd sat up too quickly.

"Uh oh! I guess I forgot to leave the flash off."

I blink, squinting upwards where the voice had come from. The bed's right next to the communications station, and one of the monitors was angled down right in my direction. Talwyn's in view on it.

"Hi, sleepyhead…sorry about waking you up like that," she holds up a camera. "Forgot to tune this before leaping into action."

"If you weren't my girlfriend, I'd feel creeped out that you're taking pictures of me while I sleep," I say. "Howsit goin', Tal? We're en route and should be there pretty soon. Or so I think, don't know how long I was out."

"Good! I've gotten everything set up for your arrival," she holds up a clipboard, flipping papers up on it. "At least I think I do—it's quite a lot for me to remember all by myself…"

There's a bit of mental pang at the back of my head. "I—yeah. Just hang in there for a bit more, and Clank and I'll make sure everything's alright," then a monster yawn comes up and I lean back, stretching my spine out. Talwyn smiles. "Are you sure you won't fall asleep on me? Clank was telling me earlier how hard you both have been working these past few months."

I wince. "Oh boy, did he tell you about…?"

"When you collapsed out of sheer exhaustion two days ago when trying to lift that rotary engine twice your weight onto the table?"

"No, about when I nearly turned myself a shade darker while testing the afterburners on a client's ship," from her horrified expression, I think I just ratted myself out.

"Ratchet! You need to be way more careful than that!"

I hold my arms out, "I was! I was just a bit tired because I'd slept for eight hours—"

"—four," Clank corrects. He's still at the helm of the ship, that eavesdropper.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be piloting?" I call.

"I am a good multi-tasker," Clank says deviously. Shoot! I figured I couldn't slip any amount of sugarcoating to Talwyn with a living auto-corrector in my presence, so reluctantly I have to admit the truth.

"Okay, so I was barely functional and happened to set the afterburners into a ready position when I thought I hadn't. And since I'd put a weight on the pedal to test the thrust, I went ahead and locked in the—"

I stop, noticing that she's got her head in her hands now. Quick, recover Ratchet, you're losing her!

"We're done with the summer jobs Tal, so it's all good!" I say quickly, hoping to ease her a bit. There was my own personal project I had to work on, but depending on however long it took to protect Qwark I'd probably have to scrap it. That and the admission to the HoverDerby next month, which I really don't want to miss the grand opening of.

"Is there any other way you almost killed yourself I need to know about?" Talwyn asks, her voice muffled behind her hands.

"I'm pretty sure you won't like the answer," I admit.

"Ms. Apogee, I suggest not listening to Ratchet's stories of what happened this summer," Auto-Correct calls. "I can say that they occurred equally from a lack of self-consciousness and the abject idea of general safety."

"Yeah, so what's new?" I slip. "Uh, I mean… _we,_ Clank and I, worked hard and it paid off! It was just same old, same old, so I thought maybe it'd be a good idea take in a bit more jobs this summer to occupy some more time!"

It was too bad that was a damn lie. Not that I'd tell her or Clank the real reason I'd piled on the workload.

Talwyn lowers her hands partially, narrowing her tired eyes at me. "It sounds like you were doing the most at your own expense. Have you seen the bags under your eyes, you look like you just walked through the entirety of the Great War in just one night! I should make you relax as soon as you get here!"

"Nah, not relax completely. I gotta keep my hands busy somehow."

"I can think of one way that'd make us both happy."

I clear my throat. "...Right. But duties come first before petty indulges, Tal. Though…after all this is over, you want me to take you on a ride?"

"That sounds like something I'd love, Ratchet," she answers, giving me a look that sends a swooping sensation throughout my lower stomach and a tingling at the base of my tail. For a moment it feels like the direct line of sight between us was getting hotter, like a rod was extending from her side of the screen all the way down to me.

Then I remember that this is a government ship and calls were likely being monitored.

"Alright, then!" I say a bit loudly, sitting up. "Gotta drop any more news on us, Tal?"

"No, though I do find it strange that you've taken someone else into the bed other than myself," she responds. "I'll just leave it at that for now. I'll see you soon, Ratchet," she winks, and the screen shuts off.

I draw a blank for a moment; wait…huh? What was she…

That's when I notice there's too much weight making the other side of the bed bend. I turn my head, giving a horrified shout when I find Qwark lying right next to me. _"What the—?"_ I shove all my weight on him and he instantly wakes up, flailing his arms as he falls off and crashes to the ground.

"I promise, I never bought my constituents!" Qwark shouts, holding his arms above his head. Then he rises up, looking at me. "Oh. Forget you heard that…"

"Qwark, why'd you get into the bed with me?!"

"Why'd _you_ push me off? I was having a great dream!"

"I'm tryna figure out what all this _snuggling_ is about!" I say, distinctly aware that Clank's having a good ol' laugh to himself several yards away. "You already push my bed out here and now you're gonna hog it up when you've got your own?"

He taps his pointer fingers together. "Well, uh…I forgot to pack my night light, and it's reeeally dark back there…"

Of course.

"Fine, stay here if you want," I sigh. "But if you're gonna do something like that, at least warn me beforehand…on second thought, don't ever do something like that again, please."

Qwark looks surprised, like he was expecting me to kick him out. If I hadn't been actively trying to stay patient with him I sure would've. "Whoa, that's mighty generous of you Ratchet, especially with you being a cranky little something."

"Cr— _what?_ No I haven't!"

"Then why do you seem to be angsting like you're a teenager again?" Qwark asks. "The last time I saw you like this, it was when it was Ratchet-minus-the-Clank!"

I think for a moment. Okay. Granted, he was probably right. For someone who appears to be clueless half the time, there are moments where Qwark is so perceptive it literally enlightens me.

Not that I'd let him know that, though. I yawn a bit, getting out of bed. "Eh…you're just overthinking for once. Crease those edges when you're done with 'em, kay? And remember, don't touch that CommStation."

I make my way over and sit down in the co-pilot's seat. "You must have been more tired than I thought," Clank says, grinning. "He was not very delicate when it came to getting in a comfortable position next to you."

"I kind of wish he had been a bit rougher," I say, remembering that weird dream from earlier. If stuff like that kept happening every time I shut my eyes, I'd sure want to sleep less. Then Clank gives me a weird look and I _quickly_ rephrase that. "I-I mean, I just didn't want to sleep too long and wake up with a headache. So Auto-Correct, anything else happen when I was out? Besides Talwyn calling and Qwark sneaking out?"

"Yes, I..." Clank trails off, likely processing my words again. Then he says, "Auto…correct?"

A laugh gets caught in my chest. He looks so confused. It was too easy to throw him off sometimes, I've just got to throw a non-sequitur into our conversations occasionally. I don't even respond, acting like I'd called him his actual name. "Hm…" Clank gives me a suspicious look, then correctly assumes it was my sense of humor coming into play and brushes it off. Then he glances down, looking at the sonar.

"There was something. For the past several hours there appears to have been a vessel on our radar. I had thought it was a passenger ship that had happened to cross paths with us, but it has constantly maintained a close distance of several hundred thousand miles and matched our trail with nearly a hundred percent accuracy."

"Ah, those'll be the Rangers," I say. "Before we left the head technician told me they'd be sending a party after us soon, that they'd tail us to the Apogee Space Station. More effort in taking care of Qwark, you know."

"Oh! That is gracious of them. Which means," Clank lowers his voice, "with them distracted with Qwark, perhaps that could be our window of opportunity try to get you remedied."

"I like the sound of that," I say. "Though…let's just keep this between me and you? Telling Talwyn isn't on my top list of priorities. It kinda chips away at man points, you know?"

"Man points? If I were to guess, their value is nearly synonymous with the amount of testosterone flowing within a male organic's reproductive system?"

"That was real subtle, Clank. But yeah, heh…that's one way of putting it."

Clank looks a bit proud of himself, standing a bit straighter. It makes me feel bad because I know he has to be tired from flying us for so long, but there was nothing I could do. At my request he pulls up the galactic map and I see that we're already in Bogon, passing Damosel to our right. It wouldn't be more than several more hours to Polaris now, if he kept taking his weird mathematical shortcuts.

Since the radio was replaced with a cheese grater and the Holo-Vid was dated back to the Stone Age, there wasn't much left for me to do. I fully acknowledge that when I'm bored, I can turn into a bit of a passive hellion.

How did Clank manage to do this all the time? It was just so…so gross, being a passenger for an extended time. I start shifting in all types of positions to get comfortable, from sitting in the chair sideways to folding myself over the back of it.

 _"Ratchet,"_ Clank practically snarls when I accidentally hit a switch from tossing. "I am going to need you to try to maintain one position for _more_ than a few seconds."

"Sorry," I say, quickly flipping it back to the normal position. "Were those the windshield wipers?"

"I am not even sure what that was. The entire framework of the ship could have collapsed on itself from you hitting that."

"Uh, hopefully not, right? Who'd put a self-destruct switch on their windshield…oh, forgot who's ship this was, never mind," then the air freshener shaped like the big lug himself spurts out, nearly jolting me out of my skin. "Augh, this stupid thing!"

Apparently it was one of those fresheners programmed to spray every thirty or minutes. Not only did I always forget that it was there in the first place and get startled every time it went off, it didn't even _smell_ good. That was all the reason for me to rip it off and break it over my knee. Hey, that actually might end up being pretty fun! Maybe I could see how many pieces I could break it in.

"No," Clank says, right as I reach a hand forward.

"No what?"

"No destroying the air freshener."

"Can't I at least move it?"

"If you want to risk him throwing a fit later on."

I suddenly remembered how he'd acted in the hangar about it. Damn it all, if there was something I didn't want Qwark bawwing over, it was something as trivial as this. "Good point," I say, sliding my chair away from it and closer to Clank's side. "But…I need something to do, Clank."

He thinks for a moment then brings up the idea of a half-game, half-geography lesson. It was trying to guess the planet we were coming up on when it's a vague dot in the distance, and getting close enough to find out who was right.

"That looks like Boldan."

"Ratchet, are your eyes functioning? That is Tabora. They are two completely colors…"

"Oh what the heck? How'd I get that wrong?"

So, after about an hour and a half of Clank beating me to the punch most of the time, I think I'm right about ready to lose my mind. I was starting to get desperate enough to wake Qwark up but that would probably end up turning south pretty quickly, and I would have to kill a man before we got to Talwyn's.

Then right as we're passing the outer fringes of the Bogon Galaxy, a green light starts flashing on the control panel on Clank's side. "What's that?" I ask almost instantaneously, leaning over. Anything would've been entertaining at this point.

"That indicates that someone is trying to contact the ship. Odd. They appear to have patched their connection through—"

Clank stops. The monitor centered on the control board that'd been showing a large galactic map is starting to flicker, gradually turning the picture into a grainy image of a purplish pink blob. It suddenly sharpens, revealing a woman.

The minute she blurs into focus her expression grows into a zombie-like smile, one that makes the fur on the back of my neck rise and electricity run down my spine. If that smile was supposed to be friendly it sure didn't convince me.

It didn't help that she looked like she could be Artemis Zogg's fraternal twin. All the way down to the hamster face and the neck that was thick as geletonium.

No, Ratchet. I'm sure she's nice person. Just give her a chance.

"Hello, Ratchet and Clank," she says daintily, with a voice of a secret axe-murderer wanting to chop us in the back the moment we turned around. "Let me introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Metnic and I am currently a part of the Polarian Defense Force standing in as the defense manager. Captain Qwark hasn't told you that I am one of the ones he inducted into his Secret Service, has he?"

"I'm afraid not, no," I say, wondering why he hadn't dropped her name to me earlier. "Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. What can we help you with?"

She grins. I swear, this woman had to have been a flight attendant in the past because that sweet and sour smile of hers is horrifying. "I was just checking in to see how progress was going! I understood that Ms. Phyronix instructed you—pardon, asked you to guide Captain Qwark to his station. It is of my concern that he reaches the right place at the right time, but that's just the foundation of my expectations."

Her forehead wrinkles up—oh, _oooh_ ; she's a unibrow and I just noticed. "I want him to have full, guaranteed protection. He may have been a President of Polaris in the past, but it is still our responsibility to ensure his safety, post-office."

I almost wanted to laugh. The Polarian Defense Force wasn't well known for being the organization that their name suggests, so that statement was a bit amusing. At the same time I've focused on listening to the inflection of her words, noticing the slight change in her pitch, the way she had sharpened her voice to a sneer almost. Mockingly, if I were to say. Like she was talking to two children.

Barring that, I nod. "Yes, we—"

"—have everything handled, I'm sure you were about to so delicately state," she says coolly. "Yes, I understand, Ratchet. But I'm not so sure I can fully hold you accountable for that statement, if you don't yourself."

"I…" I blink, caught off guard for a moment. "What do you mean, Lieutenant? Are there requirements we haven't met to satisfy your standards?"

"In a way, you could say that. Now, forgive me for digressing, but I am going to make a point here," she draws a finger across her brow thoughtfully. The corners of my mouth twitch. It looks like she's stroking a giant caterpillar that had decided to glom itself on her forehead.

"Now, I know Sasha Phyronix trusts you—the both of you, due to your enduring experiences in the past. Experiences that showcased your combined aptitudes, correct? The way you both took charge of a situation when things got dire, something that was concurrent with how threats were neutralized by your efforts. Agreed?"

We both nod our heads. She doesn't look impressed, pausing in rubbing herself.

"Are you _sure?_ " Metnic asks a bit forcefully.

We both get the message and respond, vocally this time, with a simultaneous, "Yes, ma'am."

The response apparently satisfies her and she goes back to feeling on her eyebrow. "Right. The both of you understand. That's what I'm hearing. But that's not what I am seeing. How seriously are you taking this job?"

"Very serious," I answer plainly, and Clank nods silently.

She laughs heartily, but it sounds more like a dying Serathoid. "Very amusing, boys. But wrong answer."

"Is…there something the matter?" Clank asks.

"I was under the impression that you were the smarter one, Clank," she says, twisting a finger into a lock of her auburn hair. "I thought your tact would be something to revere, but I might have to rethink that."

"I am not sure I understand. Have I missed information crucial to conversation?"

She stares at him blankly for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "Oh, I see, I see now! You humble yourself. I had thought that you saved acting for the cameras, but it seems like it leaks out into the real world. It's not healthy to play a half-time part for a full-time job, Clank."

Clank never really knew how to respond to passive-aggression and predictably remains silent, his features puzzled. Meanwhile my blood was already searing and I was very, very quickly running out of patience with this fake, haughty, excessive, _unparalleled bullshitter._

"So, why?" She's still smiling but her face is darkening at the same time, making her look even more demented. "Why do you think I'm so very angry with the both of you right now?"

"I…uh…" Clank stutters, unsure on how to answer. He glances at me for help, but I've already sat up, looking her directly in the eyes.

"You said you had a point to prove but I don't think you got it across well enough for us to _understand,_ Lieutenant."

"…I am at shame," she says lightly, offering a low chuckle. "And I thought that my words were as transparent as diamond! I think I'm being pretty straightforward with you boys."

"I think you've outdone yourself with the sheer amount of bull lacing every figment of your presence."

"Oh, so you've noticed. I'm flattered."

"I flattered you. I'm sorry; I wasn't aware you had such a low self-respect. How about we cut to the chase and kill our feed so we don't have to see each other again?" Her mocking grin gets bigger, and a growl leaves my throat.

"I'm...sorry," she says after a moment. "Forgive my imprudence. But! If you so wish for me to spell it out…there's a piece of the puzzle missing here in this entire operation. Ironically, it's because of you, Ratchet."

"Of me? How so?"

"Because I believe in the case something dire does happen to Captain Qwark, there needs to be someone who can wholly protect him, with their life if need be. There is absolutely NO room for mistakes, for blunders, or for people who fail to understand the gravity of their duty."

Headache throbbing in the temples. Last shred of patience, officially shredded. "And?"

"And, that leads me to ask," her smile grows impossibly farther as she looks up, her eyes twinkling angelically as they meet my own, "how can you expect to do your job correctly if you can't even utilize resources that _let_ you?"

Her words cut into me like blades and it takes one second, one, for it to finally sink in. My face grows hot, and it suddenly feels like I'm naked. Realization must've showed in my expression because she sneers. "Yes, so now he sees," she says, as I quietly sit back down. "The truth is quite hard to accept when you bury it under a lot of denial and pride, isn't it?"

I don't say anything.

"I figured, that someone by the likes of you could handle a simple task like this. At, not as complex as saving a galaxy, we can agree? At the same time, maybe not. That mental cripple you have severely strips any, if not all of your worth away. You're not too unlike the average citizen…but can I even say that? I don't like to lie to people."

I'm bristling by now but for all intents and purposes to not let her show she was getting under my skin, I keep my mouth shut, staring evenly at her. She doesn't seem to mind. Or care, as she smugly waits for several moments to see if I would say anything. The tension, mainly on our side, was close to making the roof of the ship erupt. Clank is practically a statue in the pilot's seat.

"Yet...despite that, I shouldn't underestimate you," Metnic says finally. "I hold you in too high regards to automatically assume you aren't fit for this. I still have faith that you both can do it! You have to, because do you know what will happen if Captain Qwark is killed or receives so much as a scratch? You'll _both_ be paying for it. If you hadn't realized taking on a government job while fully knowing you are incapable of seeing it to its end, is very high warrant for arrest."

Next to me Clank makes a faint sound of acknowledgement but it sounds strained, like he just realized what she was saying was true.

"Oh, but Ratchet if you want you could plead insanity if you ever land in jail," she says. "Even if you just so happened to forget your…incapabilities, before you took to the job."

"So what now?" I ask, proud that I managed to keep the snarl out my tone. "You're going to rat us out to the Polarian government?"

Metnic places a hand on her Magnus-sized chest and gives a false look of astonishment.

"No, no, no, Ratchet, you're mistaken! I wouldn't do that! No, I'm just going to keep this as our little secret for now. You can trust me, right?"

For a split second the corners of my mouth twitch up because I was just that close to laughing hysterically. But don't say anything, stubbornly keeping my face neutral. Her face seems to get a subtly insane tinge to it and I'm sure I see a vein popping in her temple.

" _Right?"_

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Good. Because I'm going to also be keeping a close, close eye on you all," she says, with a little too much enthusiasm. "I've got direct contact with Ms. Apogee's station already, so I'll need you, at least once a day, to report to me of Captain Qwark's current standings. Is that clear?"

I blink into focus, having been distracted by her unibrow. "Uh sure, yeah. Yes ma'am."

She looks like she wants to slaughter me through the screen. All the while looking like a saint, of course. "And I think, as an added incentive I'll weigh our little secret into the balance. If you miss even one day, I won't know what's happening! Then I might be tempted to leave my office, go down the hallway, knock on my superior's door and ask him to send the Force over to check in on you."

Metnic shakes her head. "But it doesn't have to come to that. So I'm leaving this both up to you. Don't neglect your responsibilities, or they just might come back to bite you rear."

Screw you. "Yes, ma'am…" I grunt, and Clank follows up with a, "we understand."

"That's nice to know! I'll give you some time to get settled today, then I expect to see one of your smiling faces tomorrow for my first report!"

She winks at us. It almost makes me dry heave.

"I'll see you later, boys. Metnic out."

She disappears. I glare at the blank monitor, barely dropping it when she suddenly pops into view again.

"Oh, and Ratchet? When you're on duty with Ms. Apogee, try to remained focused on work and work only," she asks nicely. "You need to keep your big boy pants hiked up the whole time you're there. We don't want you to be distracted with…selfish indulges."

She vanishes again, then the map pops back up on the monitor.

Well, I gave her a chance. I'm sure as _hell_ I won't like this woman.

* * *

Even following her departure, all conversation seemed to have halted entirely. Clank and I just cautiously glance at each other every now and again, no doubt wondering the same thing. How had she known about the topic of a conversation that'd clearly happened between us only?

I grit my teeth. Something wasn't right with her. If she was with the government, then I'm almost positive she could've been wiretapping our communications line and listening in. It'd at least explain that comment she made about Talwyn and my pants. Not that it was the creepiest _ever_ , by the way.

After a moment of hesitance, I get up. I was going to snoop around to see if there may have been something planted on the interior, like a bug. I bet she was proud of herself, and I couldn't wait to figure out how she was listening in and destroy it. And at least I had something to do, so there was an up-and-down to this.

I start searching near the control panel itself, careful to not touch anything, searching in between the buttons, dials and levers. Then I carefully check around the map's monitor, running my hands along the back of it. Nothing.

Then I spot the air fresher shaped like Qwark and I go over, getting close to it and eyeing it. Right as I reach out a hand, it depressurizes and sends the scent of daffodils and fried ham in my face, nearly frying my nasal passages. I hack and back away, tripping over my chair and coughing up a storm on a ground.

"Well screw you too," I mutter, getting up to search the rest of the ship.

With all Qwark's stuff in the way, it's easier said than done. I can surely say that most of my time is me searching every inch of every single one of his suitcases and bags to see if there was something on them, by minimal chance. No dice. Then I start pushing things across the floor, searching along the ground. Still nothing and unlikely as it is, because it'd be too obvious of a place to put an audio device. Plus Clank had been in here before Qwark fully loaded and he definitely would've spotted something.

Unless it was invisible or camouflaged. I groan.

I check up on the loft, searching under the couch, the chairs, near the pantry, _in_ the pantry—I only found another soda, which I gulp down. But nothing. I rule the back cabin out, due to the doors shutting it off, focusing on the CommStation last. It seemed more likely to be near here, right? Maybe I was overlooking something here…

Nothing seemed out of place, from what I could see. I've run my hands along every part of the station, searching high and low. Shoot, I had to figure out how she was listening in, I just had to!

But wait—joke's on _her_ , because it was almost time for our trip to end, anyway! We'd land the ship in the hangar and get off. She couldn't listen in to anything but silence after that! The thought makes me cackle.

"Huh? Whoozzat?" Qwark snorts awake at the sound. He just moves his eyes up, seeing me perching on the part of the CommStation right above his head. "Oh, Ratchet it's just you. Uh…what are you doing up there?"

I hesitate, then slide off to the ground. "I was just getting some exercise. I've been sitting down for the longest."

Since I didn't know where or with what Metnic was listing in here with, I'd have to watch what I say. Thankfully Qwark buys the excuse and throws his arms up, stretching. "Man! That was a great nap, and I'm more gorgeous than I was before I took it! Now that I'm recharged and ready to go, I'd say a little physical effort on my part would be good. Hey, Ratchet!"

He pulls out a palm sized box, shaking it. "Wanna play cards?"

"…sure."

Anything to keep my mind away from that woman who looked like an evil, fatter Talwyn from another dimension. Things likely got a bit more convoluted with her in the mix, not that I'd give her the satisfaction of showing she's got power over my head. Clank and I were going to make this work, somehow.

And when we go to that Space Station, I WILL eventually find her hidden method of eavesdropping and destroy it.

* * *

Reaching the Nundac Asteroid Belt couldn't've have possibly made me any happier. As we fly in there's a massive, hexagonal golden grid covering the Station, but it destabilizes for a split second as we get near it, and reforms when we pass. Talwyn had gotten a few upgrades to her station's security lately and as a person who's already witnessed them, I'd say they were pretty kickass.

But more on that later. I'm ready to get out of here. The Space Station's docking area is already open for us to land, and Clank takes us down. Time to disembark! I stand up, knocking over a tower of cards Qwark had been stacking. "Darn…" he mutters.

"Uh, Qwark! Bring all your luggage out, will ya?" I say, practically stampeding down the docking ramp when it lowers. I don't even wait for Clank; I tear across the hangar, practically feeling like I was flying as I take a leap into the air. " _Yeeeeaaah! Freedom, baby_!"

All that pent up energy and anxiety were being let out _finally,_ and I needed this release. It wasn't quite the same as blowing up an empty water silo with half a dozen missiles or ripping down a mountainside on a hover-type ATV, but it was something.

"Yeah, now what, Lieutenant?" I shout minutes later. "Can't hear me all the way out here, can you….oh, sorry, what's that? I couldn't those fat lips flapping, and I don't _want to!_ "

I collapse to the ground immediately after. I'd run around for five minutes straight and I was out of shape, so there was that. Clank walks up to me, concerned. For some reason I'm seized by the compulsion to laugh, reaching out at him. "Can you believe it, man? Was that the first time in ever you ever flew me anywhere? Awesome job by the way, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're like…my Mom and my Dad at the same time."

His eyes soften but there's an odd look to them as well, like he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or not. "Ah, yes…I appreciate the sentiment, Ratchet."

My delirium starts to wear off several minutes later. When I look back, I'm a bit embarrassed by that short rampage of mine.

"Okay, that was a bit much. See, this whole thing is messing me up," I say, as we walk out across the empty hangar. "You'll never see me act like that again unless I've won a competition. Or if I ever hit some alcohol. But never from a _normal_ day." Oh, right, I kept forgetting this wasn't a normal situation.

Clank chuckles to himself. "Yes my son, that was quite amusing to see. What do you think about that Lieutenant Metnic character? She seems to be quite the handful."

"Biggest swelled head I've ever seen on a non-Terachnoid. Fat old toad, I bet she celebrated all two hundred of her birthdays alone."

"Convoluted to all ends, it seemed. But Ratchet, it appears that this situation has become direr with her interference," Clank says. "If we need to keep your senility in secret we simply must deal with—"

"Wait…wait, wait, _hold_ on a minute," I say slowly, my hand raised. "Did you just call me…'son'?"

"I did not _just_ call you son, but I did several seconds ago. What? I had thought I served as a stand in as your parental figures."

"Don't pay attention to what I said then!" I say quickly. "Clank, I wasn't even thinking straight. I mean, you were _temporarily_ being a Mom because you fuss and Dad because you flew, but come on! Yeah uh huh, you're grinning 'cause you know that you're my brother."

"Fussing over you is my complete liability."

"Make that my slightly-aggravating-at-times-I-want-to-noogie-him brother," I say, grabbing him and doing that exact thing. He pulls away from me with a chuckle, straightening the antennae on his head.

"Anyway, I am sure Ms. Phyronix would not punish you due to your relationship with her, but Lieutenant Metnic is from Polaris. She will not engage in the same type of nepotism."

"Tch! I can't believe it. To think Qwark's got a monkey, a killer, an old woman, and a psychopathic flight attendant apart of his post-presidency Secret Service. What a universe we live in, eh?"

"And also us, though that is anything but pragmatic."

" _Right._ As if we hadn't spent these past years trying to prevent him from killing himself," I say, looking over yonder as the big guy comes out from the ship, tangled up with yarn for some reason. "I think Skrunch is the only keeper out of the rest of 'em...hahhh, well. Guess there's no other way out of this, Clank."

"No way out of what?" asks someone from behind us. "Talwyn!" I say as I turn, with a little more enthusiasm to sound normal, "H-How long have you been standing there?"

She's at the hangar doors, wearing a pencil behind an ear and holding her clipboard. "Uh…one second?"

"Good," I say in relief. "I mean! Great, I missed you," I go to hug her, and she's a bit hesitant at first before pulling her arms tighter over me.

"Are you…okay, Ratchet? You seem like you're upset about something."

"Oh, I'm fine."

"Then why was your tail curling up the way it does when you get agitated?"

It was at times like this I cursed my subconscious body language. "It's…inconsequential," I stumble.

"Which means, you don't want me to know," Talwyn says business-like, pulling out of the hug. She pats the top of my head twice. "It's great to see you too. I wish we could've met without…the extra company."

"Oh, am I intruding upon anything? I am not that familiar with the courtship rituals of organics," Clank says, turning to leave.

I stop him. "No, bud, we're not talking about you. It's ah…aptain-Cay ark-Qway…"

"Ah. I thought you were about to refer to Captain Qwark, seeing as to how he is the only other being here with us."

"Really gotta hook you up with lessons on subtext, Clank. So Tal, you got the heads up from Sasha? There's gonna be Galactic Rangers on patrol here along with us."

"Yeah, it's going to be pretty busy here for a while but I'm mostly glad you and Clank are here," Talwyn looks over my shoulder, her brows drawing together at whatever Qwark's doing behind our backs. "I don't think I have enough patience to take care of _this_ one by myself."

"You an' me both, sister. By the way, have you heard from our overseer? Lieutenant Metnic, part of the Polarian Defense Force? Has a smile that sings the song of death to all who receive it? Procures her own gravitational field?"

Talwyn gives me a strange smile. "She's spoken to me already and given me the lowdown…if she wants us to report Qwark's standings, then I've got more than enough methods of communication here."

"Eh. I don't trust that woman. There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way."

Clank shoots a careful glance at me. I'd keep her spying on us out of the topic for now, mainly because of the look of surprise that Talwyn had gotten.

"Really? I've met her several times in person before at the Defense Center on Igliak. She seemed like a nice person to me, Ratchet, if not a bit…exuberant," Talwyn shrugs. "She takes her job pretty seriously, too. Maybe you just have to get used to her."

I struggle to ponder that for a moment. I wouldn't mind the fact that she was upset with us in the first place because I won't deny that I have to hold myself accountable. But I saw less I liked about her than otherwise. Her superficial tone, the way that she talked down to us instead of like we're her equals, her passive aggressiveness…

No. My instincts were telling me, full stop, that there was something off. I didn't like it.

The only thing I could give her credit for, what I _understood_ , was her holding my senility over my head. It was for her good reasons. Only wanted to do her job. But her methods of rationality were skewed. I don't know why she came at us like that for our first confrontation, but it was clear Talwyn had seen a part of her that we had yet to witness.

For now, I'd just have to keep a close watch on her.

"Yeah. Maybe," I answer. I'd been glancing off, but now Talwyn draws a finger underneath my chin, making me look at her. She's smiling at me slightly.

"Didn't start on the best note with her?" she asks. I give an affirmative nod, one corner of my mouth rising in a grimace. She pulls me into a hug and I go stiff—it was nowhere as loose as the one I'd greeted her with. It feels like my entire body is getting electrified when it's up against hers.

"It'll be fine, okay? You're here now. Try to take things a bit easier."

I barely heard her. This close I could smell the perfume she had put on that morning, and she's rubbing a hand along my back. Oh-oh...oh, man…it's been so long since we had physical contact like this. My head was already spinning…not with things I'd rather put out there, for the sake of modesty.

Her hand pauses on my back. " _Breathe,_ Ratchet."

I break out of the trance I'd been in, suddenly leaning back out of the hug. Talwyn looks a bit surprised then maybe a bit disappointed; Clank is looking between us, confused, and I quickly speak to avert an awkward moment.

"Y-You're right, Tal. This is fine. She's my superior, so I should trust her judgment, and…keep my big boy pants hiked up."

"Oh, is that something she told you? I guess she wanted this to be a strict business-only period."

My nose flares and I swallow a bit, feeling my body going a mixture of stiff and hot. Damn it, Talwyn wasn't making this 'no petty indulges' thing easy.

"So! Let's get on with the proceedings," Tal says, "I've got a plan for the rest of the day and it's pretty straightforward. Let's try to get everyone settled in here, then we can figure out an agenda tomorrow. It'll be a bit limited, since I don't think leaving the Station would be wise."

"It would be risky, yes," Clank says. "I assume Lieutenant Metnic would not take kindly to that if she found out."

"She won't find out if we're careful," I drawl. Talwyn narrows her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "Oh come on Tal, does she really expect us to be complete hermits here? What if one of us needs to grab some chips from the supermarket?"

"I've got a full pantry stocked for all three lounging rooms on each floor of the Space Station," she says. "As soon as I caught wind of what was going on, I made preparations in advance. Kind of helps that it's just the four of us here…"

Her smile fades, ever so slightly.

 _What? No…no, no NO—_

"S-So, where are we sleeping?" I ask quickly. "Clank and me. And I, I mean. Qwark too?"

Out the corner of my eye, I can see Clank giving me a curious look. Talwyn doesn't notice anything strange, her attention to her clipboard. "Hmm…I've got you guys on the same floor as him. When he gets over here we can all go check it out. By the way, just to clear things up you'll have same amount of access you do whenever you guys visit, so don't be shy about feeling at home here."

"Great, so as long as I don't set the range on fire again we've got free reign! Thanks," I look down at Clank. "Hey, by the way Clank. About speaking to Metnic. Could you…?"

Clank nods in a way that told me he'd been expecting the question. "I have the daily reports handled Ratchet. I understand that is not your intellectual forte."

"Ooooh, that makes me feel like I've got a pea brain."

And speaking of pea brain, I notice Qwark suddenly standing in our presence. I never understood at how such a big guy could move so quickly and quietly. As if that wasn't wacked out enough there's a mountain of luggage complied right behind us.

"Well Talwyn, it's time for my move in! I'm sure you procured a suite that would _suit_ my needs?"

"Yes, it's downstairs in the gallows."

"Then lead the way!" he says obliviously, marching forward. I catch Talwyn's grimace right as she turns, leading him away. As they walk away I slow down, Clank and I falling back.

"I wonder if there's a planet with a physician nearby," I whisper to him. "Or…whatever types of doctors deal with selective memory and loss of brain function…"

"I feel that planet Igliak would be our best bet but I think it would be wise to call whoever we chose over here, as to avoid the risk of upsetting Lieutenant Metnic," Clank mutters.

"Yeah," I snort, shaking my head, "you know it doesn't take much to OOMPH!"

I'm stopped in my tracks, and Qwark lowers his hand from where I had run into it. He pushes us back, shooing us into the docking area. "And where do you two think _you're_ going? You're supposed to be assisting me! You could start with taking my luggage to my room."

Clank and I glance back at the mountain of belongings that seems to tower over us. This wasn't going to be fun.

* * *

Some time later when I finally, finally drop the seventy-fifth piece of luggage down I just fall with it, feeling my muscles screaming in agony. Don't ask me what a person needs with so much stuff.

"Done," I groan across the room. "All your stuff's in here, Qwark."

"Splendid!" he chirps from behind, which really confuses me since I was sure that hallway had just been empty. "I've been a bit busy myself, actually!"

He holds out a copy of _Body by Qwark._ "I've been exercising some crafty ideas to keep the blood flow up and running for everyone here, so I've gone around the Station and planted some fitness tips in clever spots! I'm sure you'll appreciate me for keeping you guys' health in mind."

"That's redundant, since I nearly broke my back carrying luggage that weighs as much as I do."

"Huh...oops, that might've have been a slight oversight on my part," Qwark says, tossing his book away. "Wait a minute—" He suddenly bounds forward, knocking me to the side to get to a box next to the door. "Is all of my personal china collection unbroken? Let's see…blue flower forty-three, red star thirty-two…"

"I'll smash 'em all if I don't at least get a thank you."

"I know, I know, I'm not blind," Qwark says, putting his china away. "So I do want to extend a thanks to you both, Ratchet and…?"

He looks around. "Where's Clank? Oh no, I hope he didn't end up getting buried in all this! We've gotta search for him before he suffocates!"

Qwark starts hurtling suitcases and bags over his shoulder, which crash randomly through out the room as he digs around. "Clank? Claaank?"

"Hey, simmer—" I duck to avoid getting my head taken off by a panini grill, "—down, Qwark, he's not with us anymore."

"What?" he looks at me, confused. "Did he…you know…?" He points up, and I want to smack him.

"No, I mean I've been moving these by myself. Clank couldn't lift any of these if he tried, so he's been with Talwyn and helping her do some checks across the Station. He was gonna be up here when they were done," I tilt my head to the door, listening closely for a moment. "In fact, I think I can hear him coming down the hallway now."

Qwark looks a bit embarrassed, swinging his arms behind his back and letting his bookshelf tip to the ground. "Oh, right…I…knew that. Well anyway…I've got a little something for you and your efforts, Ratchet."

"Is it a restraining order?"

"Not even close, dear Ratchet! Something much more grand, much more exciting, and much more…well, ambiguously legal."

My interest peaks a little, and Qwark starts fumbling around his pockets. "Now where did I put that dratted thing? I hope I didn't leave it with my aloe vera soaps…Oh, ah ha!"

He draws out a remote, and I automatically become weary at the sheer number of buttons on it. Bad timing to give me something I couldn't utilize, but I was curious anyway. "What's that?"

"It's a little something I picked up at a flea market in Terachnos," he admits. "Uh, but I guarantee that it'll be worth it, honest! It was from one of these psychic-y, fortune teller-like guy. Let me give you a bit of a lowdown—apparently this device is the byproduct of two astounding Terachnoid minds! In fact, all the others on that stuffy planet were so jealous at the ingenuity of this device they refused to purchase it! Bit of a loss, actually. The vendor saw how interested I was in it, so he sold it to me at half discount for the price of 5,000,00 bolts!"

It looks like someone sold it to him from the back of their truck. I didn't think the little toy whatever it was could possibly amount up to soreness I have now, and I couldn't even use it, but…a gift was a gift, after all. Even if it was from someone I wanted strangle half the time we met.

"So, what's it do?" I ask.

Qwark gives me a bit of a tilted look. "I…well, it's been a while since I tested it out, annnd…"

"Lemme guess, don't recall what its function is or what type of energy output it produces?"

"I've got a handle on one of those things, at least. Give me a moment!"

As he starts fiddling around with the remote, Clank walks in through the door and up to us.

"How are the both of you? Did you manage to—"

Qwark points the remote at Clank and a cyan beam zaps out like lightning, hitting him dead in the chest. Clank only has time to give a startled, "Oh?" before his form becomes darkened and vanishes with a sharp noise, all within the span of a split second.

My heart feels like it's gotten doused in sub-zero water and I rise up, fear and rage constricting my chest. "Did—did you just _VAPORIZE_ him?!"

"No, of course not! It didn't say anything like that in the instruction manual!" I start walking towards him and Qwark backs away, holding his hands up. "Look Ratchet, this is a teleport device, I promise! Or…least that's what I _think_ I was told."

"Bring him back. _Now_."

"Alright, alright! I remember the sequence, just…give me a moment." he glances over, then quickly averts his eyes. "Er, y'know Ratchet that glare of yours is making it hard to concentrate…"

A second later there's a flash of light and Clank is back where he was, shaking his head a bit. "How interesting," he says. "It appears that device has the ability to transport matter across time and space." As I start circling him to see if he'd been hurt in any way he turns to Qwark with an odd look.

"…I advise you recreate the arrival destination to a different location than Ms. Apogee's bedroom. She was not expecting me to breach reality next to her."

"Oh, so it was where I remembered it to be! Ratchet, do you want your turn now?" I lower my brows at him. "…on second thought it's clear that there's no time for intimacy, so let me just…uh…figure out how to…?"

He holds the device up, shaking it a little. "You mean you do not know how to use that device in its entirety?" Clank questions.

"I just fumbled around with a bunch of buttons until stuff happened."

That sounded accurate enough. "Give me—" I was about to tell him to hand it to me, but I stop when I remember I can't do anything with it. Just that quickly I'd forgotten again. It was so hard to remember, and feels like a fresh stab in the heart every time.

Qwark glances up. "Ah? Cat got your tongue, Ratchet? Wait…" his brow furrows for a moment and he looks up at the ceiling. Heavens help us, he's thinking. Finally, a ding pops into existence and his face brightens. "Ideeea! Hey, you!"

He gut punches me, depositing the device in my hands at the same time. "It's your present, anyway! I should've figured to leave the layman's work to a layman!"

My urge to strangle him was rising.

Then I notice something weird about the remote. Was he serious? The damn buttons weren't even labeled in a language I understood.

It was a valid excuse to cover up my tech-cripple and I pass it to Clank, who studies it a moment with a finger to his chin. Then he taps several buttons in a sequential manner, finishing with hitting the largest one in the middle. "Pardon me. This will only take a second."

He points it at himself and teleports away.

There's a second of silence. I shoot a weary glance at Qwark as he slides in close to me.

"…so uh, Talwyn!" he starts, "Gone on any dates lately with 'er lately?"

I chuck a cushion from the bed at his head, then move to sit down in its place. "…nope."

"Hmm. You know, I was wondering if there was something a bit off about you, Ratchet. In fact, I know I'm onto something here!"

"I'm positive you aren't, but lemme hear what you have to say anyway."

He prods me in the side of the head, almost earning himself a scowl. "You're down in the dumps because you haven't spent time with Talwyn! Well, there's something I can do about that! Ratchet, I understand that the weight bearing on your shoulders would be enough to make the sanest man crazy! But do not fear! Your desires are safe with me, and thus I will respect them!"

"I think we'll be a bit too busy for date nights out on a yacht."

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm sure there's something we could do to ah… get you out of this rut."

I push his head away from mine, giving him a sideways look. "You tryna get me in trouble with my overseer? I can't...I don't have time for leisure. Not even if it's for—"

I stop for a moment. I suddenly don't feel so good.

Because in that split second, I'd had a flashback, a brief glimpse of something that I'd overlooked. I'd been busy trying to stay casual about our arrival and my head being messed up and that Lieutenant, I don't think I'd payed that close attention to Talwyn's mood.

Now I can clearly see her face again. I knew when something was bothering her. The slight crease in her brow, the way her lips had been parted slightly in mild concern. Then there was the smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and even the despondent way she had stood, like she was barley holding herself up.

I can't believe I'd been so _stupid._

Stupid for not even realizing how lonely my girlfriend had been by herself for months. There's a blockage in my throat. I'm peeved with myself. I had Clank at my side, always, and never again would I take him for granted. But it was still a fresh bruise, realizing again, and again that Talwyn had _no one_ , because—

Don't. Don't don't don't think about that, don't even think about how it was your fault that they're gone, that it was your fault she's alone now—

"Ratchet?"

I suddenly realize I'd been clenching my hands into the covers of the bed, crumpling them up so badly I was sure Qwark was going to fuss. But when I raise my head to look at him, he looks…concerned? For a moment I just stare at him, trying to convince myself what I was really seeing.

"Hey," he says. Even his tone has gotten really quiet. "Look…maybe now's not the time to be discussing matters like this. I uh…guess I brought something up you didn't want to hear?"

I hesitate a moment before speaking. "No, you…actually opened my eyes a little, Qwark."

"Is that why they're tearing up?"

"What?" I say. My eyes weren't even close to watering. He was lying. But then…why is it suddenly a bit hard to see clearly?

"It was just allergies," I say. "Still got Veldin air in my eyes."

"Must be in your throat then, too."

"I've no clue what you're talking about. When Clank comes back it'll be time for us to take our leave, so you should get to unpacking soon."

"Then until he does, let's sit down and talk about our feelings!"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but the thought of that gives me indigestion," I say. "There's nothin' for me to talk about Qwark, I didn't get hooked on a job protecting you just to sit down and talk about my feelings."

"How about a massage? You need to get that tension out of your joints."

"That's a big no. I'm young, I don't have any tension _—ah-ah—!_ " I bark, when he reaches hand for me. "Hands off, pal! We're having none'a that."

"Well I'm out of ideas," Qwark sighs, pulling his hand back. As soon as he does I'm mentally slapped in the face my realization again, for the second time in recent minutes. Qwark, of all people just tried to comfort me?

I wasn't quite sure what I had to say to that—well, forget that. I do know what I'm going to say.

"Look, Qwark, there's…just a lot on my mind now, and I'm trying to cope with it all. But, truth be told, I appreciate you trying to get me to relax. Thanks. That's surprisingly big of you."

"Big heartedness is my middle name!" he erupts, plopping down next to me. His weight makes my side of the bed spring up and I get tossed several feet in the air, bouncing a bit as I land on my back.

"Whoops! Sorry about that. Need a hug?"

"No."

He leans over anyway and I lean away accordingly. My leg hits something and I swear under my breath; these damn suitcases were in the way! Qwark makes a grab for me and I jump up, tensing to move. "No!"

"Come on, just pretend I'm Talwyn! I'll even let you pat my glutes like you do when you hug her!"

"I said _no,_ you big—argh!" I stumble backwards over something, scrambling to get away from him as he follows. "Stay away from me!"

It there hadn't been luggage lying in less than convenient spots, I would've gotten away. When I accidentally get caught over the bend of a briefcase Qwark lunges for me. I try to quickly roll off to the side, but then I end up slipping over the copy of _Body by Qwark_ he'd thrown earlier. "Qwark if you touch me I promise you I'll murd—"

He tackles me into the wall. Either he didn't realize that a full-body blow from someone over twice my size hurts like all get-out, or he didn't care. Now I've got my face pressed up to the wall and can't move. "This is getting _real_ weird real fast," I grind out. He starts trying to pull me off and I resist, bracing myself up against the wall to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted to do. "Oh, for the love of—why do you insist on manhandling me all the time?!"

"You'll thank me for this later."

"Elaborate on 'this' and I may! _Later on._ Right now, all you're doing is piling torment on me. Now get off of me before someone sees—"

Clank winks into existence right where he had left.

"I had several theories that needed to be tested—" he stops, suddenly seeing Qwark pinning me close to the wall. It looks awkward even to Clank and he opens his mouth, closes it, then just looks confused. "I, uh…?"

"This is exactly what it looks like!" Qwark says.

"Was I interrupting anything?"

"Nope, just me trying to get Mr. Cranky to lighten up!" Qwark says, managing to pull me off the wall. The first thing I try to do was kick him, but he holds me just out of reach. "Ah-ah-ah—nice try! You've had this coming for a long time, Ratchet."

"Oh, NOOoo…" I lapse into a groan when he pulls me into a hug that's not so tight I can't breathe, but close enough to where I can't break free. "Let go of me…"

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

"Right now, it's YOU. Now let me go!"

"Nice try, but I can clearly see those barriers of yours, Ratchet. I will knock them down and get to the soft, tender part of your inner psyche!"

"…Clank, help."

"Captain Qwark, I ask that you release Ratchet. Your methods appear to be distressing him instead of causing their intended effect."

"Aw, why'd you have to make it sound all…smart? I can't argue with _that!_ " he pauses. "But you go ahead! I'll let him go after you explain to us what that little doohickey does!"

"Okay."

"What? That's the exact opposite of fair!" I yelp, trying to break free and give Qwark a good kick in the ribs at the same time. "Clank, start talkin', quick! And don't think I can't see that smile on your face!"

"Alright then," he says, sounding pretty humored about the situation. He holds the device up. "I discovered that this device obeys the common law of quantum entanglement, though it is notable that it utilizes paranormal powers that are not found commonly in nature to function."

Qwark and I just stare at him.

"Science and sorcery," Clank elaborates. "The scientific part comes with the energy consumption, the destabilizing of molecules and transmitting them from one point to another. But instead of being set to one specified point in space-time, it has the ability to process images by reading the user's brainwaves and translocate the person to that exact spot in space-time. All while consuming a titanic amount of energy, of course."

"So….it can take you where you want it to take you?" Qwark asks, voicing my question.

"Precisely," Clank says, scanning across the thing. "But it simply must have enough energy to power the warp. It involves quite a lot of critical thinking and making at least a 99.9% accurate judge of how much energy may be consumed for your trip. If you want me to go into detail…"

He catches the looks on our faces, then lowers an eyelid, "…and it does not look so, just know that using this device can either save you or terminate your life."

"What happens if there's not enough power for it to take you to where you want yourself to go?" I ask.

Clank hesitates for a moment. "Well…you would not like to be spliced in two, get stuck in a wall midway and suffocate, or risk ripping a slight tear in the fabric of space which could potentially lead to a universal collapse, would you?"

In the bit of a horrified silence that follows, Clank puts it away in his radiator core. "Indeed. You do not want to be short power on a trip that requires it, lest you get stuck within an infinite amount of points between you and your destination. Yet, despite its high levels of proper management it is quite an interesting piece of technology, if not a bit oddly engineered…I must remember to keep it charged, which should be easy enough."

"What are we gonna call it?" I ask. "It's only natural for all gadgets have to have a name, you know!"

"The Teleqwarker?" Qwark volunteers.

Was he serious? That was the literally the silliest thing I've heard in a long time and I can't help it. I burst out into laughter. Clank rubs a hand to his face. "Uh…I suppose so."

"What? No, that's horrible!" I cry. "It's so…ugh, you, Qwark! I outta kick you in the shin extra hard for suggesting something like that!"

Qwark's face lights up. "Heeeey, look, I got you to laugh! Mission complete!" He drops me unceremoniously to the ground. "I always knew I had a gift for making other people smile, no matter the cost! Even for a salty pants like you, Ratchet!"

I scramble away, trying to get out of the way before he decided to pull another stunt. "Right, Qwark. Well that was great and all, sent the warm fuzzies bouncing in my stomach, all that nice bonding stuff," I get behind Clank, quickly herding him to the door. "But time's up, we gotta go so why dontcha get settled in, Clank and I will help Talwyn with whatever she needs now goodbye!"

We make it out and I immediately throw my back against the door, even though it closes automatically after me. When I glance down, Clank is looking a bit too amused.

"If I may ask, what was that odd scene I came in on about?"

"Ugh, it was just his way of trying to get me to cheer up…I think. Eh, I can't tell what he's thinking half the time. I do know that I don't ever want him to be that close to my rear again."

There's a long pause.

"Don't you say a word, tincan," I say, and he can't hold his laughter in anymore.

We start to walk off down the hallway, which consists of the rest of the guest suites for this floor. "Okay, now that he's in his own bunker, what are we gonna do next?"

"Ratchet, are you tired from moving all of that luggage?"

"Uh, yeah…why?"

"Because it is time to shut the Space Station down. It is time for bed."

"What!" I say, scratching my head. "How long did it take me to move all that? Several hours, I think? Wow…I guess so, huh? And we did get here pretty late, in relation to Polarian time."

"Miss Apogee has already placed all defenses in order and earlier she slipped me our room number. That concluded her checklist of events for today," Clanks says. "Given the nature of our task, our room is…understandably close to Qwark's own."

"As long as we don't tell him the room number he can't find us," I say in a hush, glancing behind us. "Wait…where's Tal now? She didn't come back with you?"

"No, she insisted on letting us get settled in for the night and left for her own holdings."

"Shoot," I mutter. Now I was upset again because I can't even remember where she slept. She didn't have to be alone if I was here now. I guess I'd have to catch her in the morning.

Something suddenly screams at me from the back of my mind. It's a less than ideal idea but I had to look into this more. "Clank, can you do me a favor and come with me to the shooting range?" I blurt out. "I want to…see...something."

I weakly trail off. I wasn't even sure what I wanted by going there. But Clank just nods.

"Of course. I suppose it would be of slightly higher priority for you to try to regain your craft, seeing the pressure that Lieutenant Metnic has placed on you."

Clank frowns. "Such a scheming woman…there are so many things I would like to associate a person of her stature with."

"I personally like saggy, fuzzy-foreheaded old sow. What've you got?"

"I had thought that multi-layered psychotic land whale suited her just fine."

I can't remember a last time I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

* * *

Pressure is something fierce.

When you're expected to do something but have no clue what you're doing, either from inside forces or outside influences. Both in my case.

So right now with two barrels loaded with highly explosives missiles right next to my head, I think 'nervous' is a massive understatement of the century of how I was feeling right now.

"Aim for the target," Clank calls. I have no clue where he's at, but that meant he had been smart and taken shelter somewhere while in the presence of a mentally crippled person with a weapon.

I hold my breath, leaning my shoulder up. It feels like my sense of perception's a bit off, because even the red target at the end of the line looks wobbly distant. I can't get an idea of where it's at in regards to the position of the barrel, making it twice as annoying to get a clear shot.

I wasn't even going to make the attempt to fire. I just wanted to practice aiming, the _basics_. But no. It doesn't even look like I can do that. After twenty minutes of my trying to gauge this distance I can confidently say that my eyes and my brain were no longer working together the way they were supposed to.

"This is…ugh, so frustrating!" I say, ready to smash the weapon to the ground. "I can't get it to focus, my perception's literally shot to heck, and I STILL don't know how to make it go! Uh, how to make it work!"

I lean down, tumbling the weapon to the ground and starting to pace around it like it was a tribal fire. "What are your secrets, Negotiator?! Tell me, I promise I won't forget again! Come on," I kneel down, pressing my face up against it. "Just whisper it, in my ear. We've been together for years. I know you're upset, but trust me this time, please?"

It doesn't say anything. Of course it doesn't, and if it had I'd be getting the hell out of there right about now. With a sigh I raise up as Clank walks up to me, holding a Combustor.

I wearily look at it, cutting my eyes to his and then back at the weapon. "What've you got in mind?"

Clank lifts it up higher, and I find the overwhelming desire to back away from it. He follows me. "Maybe you will have better luck with this?" he tries.

I only sigh, averting my eyes. "…doubt it. It's similar to the Blaster and I couldn't figure that out."

He stops, and so do I. "I just don't want to get my hopes up then have them crushed," I continue. "Trigger-based weapon usage is all fundamentally the same. If I can't figure out to fire a rocket launcher I'm not going to understand how to fire a gun smaller than it."

Clank is looking down at the weapon in his hands thoughtfully. "Hmm…what if, I were to trigger the mirror neurons in your cerebral cortex?"

I'm quiet for a moment. "Keep talkin' like that pal, and this'll take even longer."

Clank turns, holds up the Combustor and fires down the range. It nicks off the top of a practice target. "Did you see?" he asks, turning back to me. "Perhaps if you see me utilizing the weapon it will help you understand its mechanics once more."

It clicks. "So by demonstration. I don't—I don't know," I stutter, then mentally kick myself when I realize how pathetic I sounded. Making an attempt to make my voice stronger, I add, "I mean I guess it'd do something…might as well give it a try…"

"Then afterwards, what if I gave it to you and verbally guide you on how to use it?" Clank suggests. "Maybe we could start by taking it slow."

For a moment I hesitate. That didn't sound too bad, actually. There's a well of hope coming up in me and I can't deny it. It was bubbling up on the inside, struggling to rise up more than halfway from the lid of doubt pressuring it back down. Talk about a glass half full.

"Alright…let's try it."

* * *

Which translates to, let's try me gouging my eyes out after the next thirty minutes pass.

I pay attention closely to Clank's demonstrations with rapt attention, not wavering my eyes for a second. Seemed simple. Then it was my turn to pick the weapon up, and that's where things got a bit hairy.

I listen to Clank and do what he says? Easy enough. Ratchet, hold gun. Place hands here and there on weapon. Hand on trigger. No, the trigger is not on the top, it is on the bottom. Apply pressure to trigger.

And the first time I actually do manage to fire I wasn't expecting it. As soon as the fireball erupted from the barrel I accidentally drop it, startled. By the time I've picked it up my mind had gone back to ground zero again. After Clank gives me the instructions again and I get set up to fire, this time I don't let go of the gun and manage to hold a steady stream of shots.

Good. That was _great._ But what immediately killed that effort afterwards is the revelation that, without Clank talking to me during the process, I just can't remember by any means on what to do.

The first time I try to do this by myself, Clank staying silent on the side, I gradually grow frustrated, annoyed that I couldn't remember something I _just_ did. Not even the vaguest idea. It was ridiculous at how lazy my mind had gotten and it was severely screwing me dry. Things would never go back the way they were if I couldn't act on my own, and that was the absolute bottom line.

It was like trying to catch water in your hands. You pool it up and think you've got it then it says 'nope, sorry punk,' and slips away.

We go through the entire stock of weapons there in the hangar, and all of them yield the same results. And in actuality, what killed me the most was that it wasn't just guns I couldn't use. I'd already realized that my hand-eye coordination had packed up and moved away for vacation, but I thought it'd be a bit better with thrown projectile weapons.

"Clank, you might want to move away. You're way too close…"

"I am positive I will be fine. All you have to do to throw the bomb where you want it to go."

"That's the problem. My coordination's too jacked up. What if I accidentally hit you somehow?"

"You will not. That is why I am standing directly behind you. Make sure to aim straight ahead. Focus."

I was focusing alright, on the thought of how I'd be able to live with myself if I accidentally blew Clank up. The target seems to be wavering in the distance and I'm blinking a bit more than normal, the constant feeling of not understanding the distance, the angle I need to hurl it at, swirling around in my head without rhyme or reason. When I think I've got it I pull my arm back, hesitating a moment before throwing the bomb.

It sails off-center, hits the rails at a sharp angle, bounces up, then ricochets off the ceiling. Oh boy—well, it's coming back to the sender. Clank probably regrets not moving away when I get blasted backwards, landing right on top of him. Guess I just ruled out projectile weapons.

That pretty much left the more voluntary, physical-based creations like the Walloper or the Plasma Whip left. A small percentage of most weapons, and the simplest. Even a neanderthal could use them if they tried hard enough. That kind of took away any credit I had. Even then I'd left weapons like that back in my vault on Veldin, and Talwyn preferred using blasters and long-range firearms so her weapon stock consisted everything I couldn't use.

I had somewhat expected this. Doubt had effectively slammed a lid on any hope I had. I was frustrated. Angry at myself, angry at the situation—once or twice in the back of my mind irrationally crowed that this wasn't fair. But forget that. I've already learned that there's no such thing as life being selective on who it likes, no cradling or favoritism.

I would never, ever assume I was worthy of being spared of unfortunate events. Yet, that was the only prospect easy to accept. To _re-accept._

But as if I wasn't already beat up from taking a bomb to the chest, despair is drilling into every vital point in my body, making me feel like a complete wreck. I keep seeing Lieutenant Metnic's smug, knowing expression, agitated that she was _right_ , that I had been a fool to try to assume I could salvage something out of absolutely nothing.

Acceptance cuts deeper when you've been denying it from the very beginning.

"Ratchet?"

Clank's voice is unusually quiet, like he's afraid he'll set off a time bomb by speaking too loudly. I'd lay down on my back and had been staring up at the ceiling for quite a while. He doesn't come into my line of sight but I can feel him, standing at my head.

"…I think I may have an unprofessional diagnosis. If…if you want to know?"

I only nod.

"It appears that you have lost procedural memories in the case of weapon and tool use. As for Aphelion and your inability to fly, that problem is derived from the lack of fine motor skills as well as the, ahem…previously mentioned memory-loss."

"So I'm a partial amnesiac that doesn't know how to use his hands anymore."

His silence doesn't lie.

After a moment that takes a lot longer than expected, I force myself up into a sitting position and look around the firing range. With all the collateral damage I'd caused I was surprised it was still standing. At least I didn't set it on fire again.

I really didn't even want to be here anymore. I needed away from this.

Talwyn would castrate me if I left her firing range in a mess. I get up. When I turn around Clank's eyes are slightly widened as he looks up at me.

"Well…guess we should get this cleaned up…"

His expression gets a worried look to it, but I just look away. I couldn't even look at the person closest to me. That's how humiliated I was. I just get to work picking up the dozen or so weapons I'd used, moving to place them back on the wall rack. Usually I'd gain some satisfaction by packing up in the range at the end of the day, but I feel nothing. A complete waste of time.

I think I need a bathroom. For one, it's got headache medicine. And two, I needed a very, very long therapeutic shower to wash away all this soreness.

 _"How worthless are you, Ratchet?"_

I freeze. The rocket launcher slips out of my hands, landing with loud clang that resonates through the range.

I spin around. In a split second I do a full scope of the area. There's no one else in here with us. Clank is standing several yards away with a broom. He's looking at me, his head titled to the side.

"Is something the matter, Ratchet?"

My ears are twitching agitatedly and I'm breathing a bit hard. What…did I just hear? It sounded like it was right behind me. And Clank didn't say that. Clank would never say something like that.

My head swivels from left to right in a shake and I slowly turn back around, bending over to pick the Negotiator up. "…nothing. I…thought I heard something…"

I can feel him looking at me for several moments later, but I don't turn back around. When I start hearing his broom scratching on the ground again, I let out a breath. My entire body was tensed. I've got my ears hiked up a bit higher than normal, focusing on listening more than I was on cleaning. No more disembodied voices for awhile, but I don't know if that was for better or for worse. Since how the hell was hearing voices remotely normal?

I almost bite my tongue; screw things being normal! How long would it take for _that_ to finally sink in?

With us working at all speed we're out of there in about thirty minutes. I'm more than happy to cut the lights, hearing the sound of the doors sliding shut behind us.

I let out a breath, feeling my tension settling but not much. Okay. Even though all that didn't work at least I had specific diagnosis, courtesy of Clank. That was one step closer to fixing the issue. And when tomorrow came and an agenda was set up for us, we can start looking into finding a doctor for me.

No worries. This was fine.

I let out a slightly jagged breath only I can hear, then glance over to the side; a digital clock on the wall tells me that it's a quarter past eleven.

By some strange impulse, I suddenly remember something I'd put on the backburner. "Clank, you gotten any messages from those Galactic Rangers yet?"

"I have not, now that you mention it," he says. "And that is strange."

"Where could they have gotten to? They were right behind us. You think their tracking devices fell somehow and they lost us along the way?"

"I would think they would send out a distress signal if such a thing happened, but I have no clear way of knowing," Clank says. "At any rate…I am afraid they will have to wait until morning. It has gotten late and we need rest to be functional. If they need our contact then they will do so through me, but I refuse to stay awake and lower the defenses."

That was right, I'd nearly forgotten about the defense grid. I think I'd stay awake and man the security for a while. "You go on ahead to bed Clank, I'll do a little night watching and handle the defenses. Those guys need all the help they can get so they can give us all the help we get."

He glances up, uncertain. "You are not going to sleep?"

"I will eventually," though lately, sleep hasn't been as relaxing as I'd hoped it to be. "Now you get to bed, you maniac. You haven't even slept in almost a full day."

He doesn't argue with that and after telling me where our room was (I doubted I'd remember it but at least it was on the same floor) we both end up separating, him going right down a hallway and myself going left towards the direction of the master security room.

Since 'nighttime' here clearly wasn't relative to the position of a star, the Apogee Space Station is programmed to enter sleep mode at certain times, every other twelve hours. But it also goes inactive to conserve energy at the same time, meaning most of the Station's involuntary functions remain on standby.

Unless they're motion activated. I'm walking alone in silence, the lights automatically flickering on at my presence and winking off when I move on far enough.

It's not my first time visiting Talwyn's and doing nightly rounds, but I won't deny it's always been a bit creepy to walk the halls when the Station isn't teeming with life.

That was, dare I say it, _normally_. Now if that woman hadn't spied on us and if I hadn't heard ghosts talking to me earlier, I don't think I would've have been glancing over my shoulder every other thirty seconds.

I'd never had that happen to me, hearing voices in my head. Ordinarily I'd be checking myself into the nearest institution for some serious rehabilitation. But with Clank telling me things like my head had probably been affected by chemicals, I'd lost selective memories and my motor skills and hand-eye coordination were deadened, it kind of makes me wonder how I hadn't start hearing them sooner.

I'm not _crazy._ I could still function. Just not fully like myself.

I wondered how long it would take for Talwyn or maybe even Qwark to notice that there was something wrong. Maybe when I couldn't repair something for the latter, or when I refused to go to the firing range with the former.

Maybe when Aphelion comes back repaired, and Talwyn asks me how I'd crashed her this time. The thoughts make my insides curdle.

 _—hold on…!_

My boots halt suddenly on the titanium floor, and quietness quickly smothers the echo of my footsteps. I spin around on the spot, looking down the curve of the hallway and listening closely. It had been quiet but I could've sworn I heard another pair of feet, sounding like they had tried to cover themselves under my own as I'd walked.

"Hello? Someone there? Clank, is that you?"

No answer. If there's someone following me, I can't tell. It's becoming increasingly dark around the bend since the lights are starting to flicker off; I move backwards on my directed route, trying to avoid getting plunged into total darkness while still facing down the opposite way. Had I imagined those footsteps?

Of course I had. For a moment I laugh, hitting myself in the side of the head. Paranoia was making me believe that there weren't just four people in this entire station.

I couldn't be wound up like this. After taking a moment to ease myself I continue on, a bit more confidently this time. And I don't hear anything else the rest of the way to the security room.

* * *

The master security room is located at the very heart of the station and one of the intricately accessible rooms there is.

In worst case scenario, if someone undesirable had access to the security wing they could potentially shut down everything that was linked to the system—from lowering something as big as the defense grid to causing a mass lock or unlock of all doors.

That's why it was only unlocked by iris recognition. Or in the case of a robot, an optic scan. That left three of us four able to get in. I don't think Talwyn trusted Qwark enough to let him fool around in here.

I approach the red node next to the door, shutting one eye leaning the open one close to it. There's a bit of a tingling sensation as it scans over my eye. I pull back just in time for the red light above the door to turn green; the code's authorized, and the door slides open.

The room is shaped like a giant half circle, and there's dozens of four-by-four screens stretching along the back wall, top to bottom. It actually reminds me of IRIS by the way it was set up. There's even monitor that's bigger than the rest of them, the size of a movie screen that lies right in the middle of all the others.

The control panel underneath it is yards long, curving around the back end of the room and filled end-to-end with buttons, dials, switches and other things I can't even wrap my head around even if I hadn't been mentally challenged now. Clank had everything in here memorized and Talwyn said she had an instructional manual for this place, making me the only person who didn't know what the hell they were doing other than looking at monitors. I always had been a bit more…forceful when it came to security, anyway.

As I walk forward I'm glancing across all of the screens, but mainly the big one. The camera feed is set on an asteroid out on the belt, showing the Apogee Space Station in its entirety. It's faint, but I can see a golden, hexagonal grid surrounding it in a giant sphere. Good. It was still functional.

"Hello, Ratchet."

This time the voice wasn't in my head. It's the security room's Artificial Intelligence, A1-S. A chair set in front of the panel squeaks a bit as I sit down in it. "Hey there, Rib-eye. It's been awhile. Got everything around station set up?"

"I don't know who Rib-eye is, but I'm A1-S," she responds lightly. There was a bit of teasing, love-hate thing going on with the nickname I gave her. "But yes, according to the last hourly diagnostic, all perimeter and intermediate defenses are accounted for at their highest efficiencies."

"Good. There's a group of folks we need to let in later," I say. "I'll give you the command to lower everything whenever they arrive."

The only reason I wasn't freaking out about messing around with tech I wouldn't know how to use is because most of A1-S's actions were voice activated, thank goodness. The entire purpose of the wall to wall control panel was in case her systems weren't functioning and physical input had to be used to activate things.

I think it was pretty easy to forget that Qwark was potentially being hunted down, and at first it just feels like one of the typical nights I'd spent in here in the past. The main difference was that the defense grid was never up constantly like this. Of course I wouldn't lower it for safety purposes yet, but I bet Talwyn had been commanded by Metnic and the Polarian Defense Force to keep it up at all times.

Of course, Talwyn hadn't had any of this ever since Clank and I first dropped in years ago, but since then she's bought quite few security upgrades.

For minutes I stay wide awake, kicked back and watching each and every monitor I could lay my eyes on. It's pretty uneventful, of course. A bit of a hidden goodness for a night guard, since I didn't _want_ to see anything moving through these hallways. About thirty minutes later I spot movement, and zone in on it. It's just Qwark, sneaking out of his room and judging by the direction he was going, he was heading to the kitchen. I had half a mind to tell A1-S to lock his door...but maybe, another time. Right. Can't be fooling around, here.

No matter how amusing the picture of Qwark crashing into a door that refused to open looked. I track his movement carefully, relaxing when he finally makes it back with a...water cooler? I wasn't even going to wonder.

But geez. About an hour later I'm starting to get concerned. Where were these guys at? No sign of those Rangers at all, and it's been quite a while. If anything had gone wrong they would've contacted Clank, but…nothing. At all.

For a moment I start to get a bit uncomfortable. Bad thoughts, unfavorable outcomes are starting to circulate in my head. There was no reason for them to negate all contact with us, unless…

Unless they couldn't.

Unless they were dead.

I shake my head. No, that was stupid. I shouldn't think like that.

Then why hadn't they called? Technical difficulties? Bad tracking? The longest pit stop ever, at a fast-food restaurant?

"Because they're dead," no, they're not. "Yes, they are."

They had probably gotten lost when they stopped to get fuel. Maybe they lost their GPS signal or something. I'm sure they were fine.

In fact, everything was alright. Things were a bit unfavorable, but they could be worked out!

I mean…I've lost a good chunk of my self-sense, but that could be remedied. I think.

Huh. There was also the thought that if I don't get that fixed, Clank and I could potentially be thrown in jail.

And then...Talwyn would be by herself. Again. For a long time.

I think I really need to stop lying to myself.

"Ratchet?"

I snap awake, startled to see that I'd started dozing off into a sea of my own half-cocked, drowsy thoughts. I lean up, quickly scanning across every monitor I could. "Huh, what happened? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just that your half-conscious muttering is getting to be quite unnerving," A1-S states. "You're trying to stay awake and go to sleep at the same time. I'm sure that won't work well for you."

I shift around in the chair for a bit, getting in a comfortable position. It was all over. "Hey, Rib-eye…you know protocol…wake me up if anyone tries to get in, okay?"

I doze off as soon as I finish the sentence, and I'm vaguely aware she's making some sarcastic remark. Probably about my inability to stay awake on duty. But I'd surely wake up if anything _bad_ happened.

It would've been too easy for that.

* * *

I'm suddenly awake without even knowing why.

My eyes open to a room that's pitch black, which already sends nervous ticks of adrenaline through my veins. None of the security monitors were never, ever supposed to be off.

"A1-S!" I hiss, looking to where I thought was up. "Are you there? Do you read me?"

The silence nearly chokes me. She's not answering.

That hit the nail in the coffin. Her vocal modulator was programmed to stay active even in the most serious situations. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Now I'm fully awake. I try to bolt up but I've forgotten that I'd draped myself sideways on the chair. It shifts backwards under me and I go tumbling sideways to the ground, hearing it roll away into the dark. Okay, _nothing_ about this situation was great.

There's a backup generator located in a far corner of the room. It's small, almost inconspicuous but has enough reserves to get at least a quarter of the room running. I needed to get to it and turn it on. In the dark. Then I swear under my breath; how the hell did I turn it on, again? Or more accurately, not _how_ I could, but if I could.

Forget it. I'd think about that when I got over there.

But this sucks. I can't see, and I'm practically low crawling to the corner where I thought I'd remembered the generator, cautious about bumping into anything. I remembered that when Clank was in his younger years, he used to think that I had enhanced night vision or something. Judging by the amount of times I lose my sense of orientation and knock my chin against the floor, it makes me wonder why on earth he had the idea.

But I have to reach a wall eventually, and then I could—

 _Schweve!_

A wave of ice radiates through my body, making me freeze and my fur stand up erect. That was the door.

The door that wasn't supposed to be open without authorization. The door that wasn't even supposed to open despite the power outage.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as I remain still, listening as hard as I could. Seconds slug by. It may have been minutes for all I could tell. I don't hear anything. Something brushes up against my leg, and I'm only a nanosecond from shrieking before I realize that it was my own tail. I take in several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Okay…now I'm officially starting to freak out.

Slowly, and keeping my movements quieter, I start moving again. My hand suddenly falls flat on a vertical surface and I immediately throw my body to the wall, feeling more protected with one of my sides covered. I carefully feel around; somewhere around here…

My heart leaps to my throat when I feel something metallic. It's the generator, I think. I get up into a cautious squat, feeling over it with both hands. Maybe I'd get lucky and turn it on by accident. Or maybe not and I may be trapped in here with a ghost or a ninja, maybe a mixture of both—

The top of my head collides with something, and I stifle a yelp; lights pops into my vision from the impact but I notice that something seemed to have given way against my head, moving up with a sharp click.

A brief spark illuminates the room for a split second, then there's the sound of the backup generator powering up, the dull roar underneath my hands rising in a crescendo. Okay! That was another head injury to add to the list, but at least I'd gotten the thing on! How was that for situational optimism?

When the dim safety lights flicker on I narrow my eyes as they adjust, scanning the room. Out of the dozens of monitors in the room only about ten or eleven of them, scattered randomly, are flickering weakly or have error diagnostics panning down their screens. I look up at A1-S's main control node; the light's red instead of blue, meaning that she was offline.

The door's still open. I cautiously move over to it, half expecting someone to pop in at me. I peer out, glancing left and right. Both stretches of the hallway fade away into near darkness, but I can make out the faint outlines of the distant corners on both ends. No one's there.

Then I study the optic scan on the wall and it's on, albeit flickering weakly. It was a direct mirror of the amount of power in the door, but…I guess it must've run on some independent energy source to still open with the security room powered down. Weird. Must've had a malfunction or something.

The lights directly outside the security room were apart of the same electrical system as the ones in the room. Barring the abnormal event of a power outage, they always stayed on even when the Station was inactive.

As an experiment I walk farther down the hallway for a bit, and the automatic lights start to come on. I back away, and after five seconds they go off and leave the outside of the security room the only lit area.

For a moment I was puzzled, suspicious. Why had the power gone off only in the security room?

I suddenly hear a distant crash, a faint vibration running underneath my feet at the same moment. That actually jogs my memory a bit; the electrical room was on the bottom floor, right below my position. It was there mainly to supply power to the security room, in fact.

Now who the heck was down there screwing around, I could only guess. I go off in one direction, towards where I thought the nearest teleporter was. I swear, if Qwark's in there trying to harvest electricity for his supertoaster again…

I'm halfway down the hallway, and right when I'm in the middle of taking a step another dull thud rings out from below. This time it's hard enough for me to nearly lose my balance and I stagger a bit before planting both feet on the ground. What the...

I jump, backing away from the spot when more poundings start making the floor tremble. It was like someone was directly underneath me, repeatedly hitting upwards with a ton of force. The floor is actually starting to bulge up a bit, swelling up more with every blow that came to it. The titanium surface is stretching around the hits but it hasn't broken yet; would it hold whatever this was?

My brain's repeatedly telling my legs to exit stage left as quickly as I could move, all my instincts screaming that something janky was going on, but I don't budge. Maybe it was my stubbornness rearing its head. Or foolishness, morbid curiosity, etc. However it was looked at.

But the hammering stops suddenly, and it falls silent. By now that big spot on the floor is bulging up at about two feet, the metal strained from all the outward pressure. I move forward cautiously after a moment.

Then a several inch-long blade suddenly pierces up from the ruined part of the floor. I watch as it cuts sharply to the side, ripping through the weakened metal easily and trailing a long line through the ground. Then it does it the other way, making the slit larger, before retracting. A moment later, something huge tears up from the slit, the floor curling away from the force.

It's a freaking _arm._ It's twice my body length, three times as thick and the color of rusted copper, with a huge hand that ends in four tipped claws on each finger. It bends over slowly like a giant worm, its hand finding a good grip on the floor before it starts ripping away at it, yanking metal chunks out the ground to make the hole bigger. Soon it's joined by _another_ arm and together they work in conjunction, the clawed hands forcing the hole open wider.

I pick up rasping, like someone's exhaling. A low growl that sounds like it's coming from female War Grok in heat. Then a head and torso of a huge frame suddenly rockets up into view, nearly blocking my view of the rest of the hallway with its size. What the…what was this thing?

I thought I had seen big when I looked at Neftin Prog, but this was taking it to whole other level. Even stuck in the floor partially, its head already stretched halfway up to the ceiling. I can't tell if it's an organic or robot —I was sure I was looking at its back but I can see that several parts of its body, like the top of its head and its lower back, were covered in a metal plating. But it had gross, leathery looking skin that stretched tightly all around, like it was barely managing to cover its body.

It grunts, then rotates its top half. A single red eye, beaming out from the layers of steel on its face, flashes around at me. That and the lack of nose, plus the sharp teeth jutting out from its mouth area really didn't put this guy on my 'friendly by looks' list for people.

I take a step back as he manages to pull himself up farther. The infrared eye on his face seems to flare brighter. _"Found you_ ," he reaches forward with a hand that could close around my entire body, " _little cat."_

Annnd, this was officially where I _check out_.

I turn on my heel and bolt as fast as Qwark runs from danger, putting as much distance between me and that thing as possible. I wince when I hear metal groaning, sounding like it's literally getting shredded apart. There's a large thud—

Then heavy footsteps, ones that I can feel reverberating through the ground. _Crap._

I dare to take a glance over my shoulder. Hell, this thing was rampaging after me. And he's fast, for someone his size. Two of my footsteps just about equaled one of his and he was more or less keeping pace, maybe a tad bit slower than I was. With each earthshaking step he takes he's making a reaching motion with an arm, like he wants to snatch me to him with sheer willpower alone.

" _Get back here_ ," he snarls.

"No thanks, I appreciate the invitation though!"

It's kind of startling at how at moments where you least expect it, things could take a downside into the pits of absolute pandemonium. I wasn't going to wonder who the HELL this guy fumbling around in Talwyn's basement was, but the fact that he seemed to want to kill me kind of jolts things into a different mindset.

Something suddenly flies between my ankles, "What the—?" and I stumble for a moment over it, feeling it cut a bit into my legs; it looks like a piece of metal that had been ripped from the floor, and it didn't take long for me to realize my new friend had thrown it.

As I recover, the one-eyed-wonder calls, "You are unarmed. Stop running away. That will make it much more difficult and torturous for you later on."

There's a corner coming up, and I practically leave skid marks as I hurtle around it. Then I pop back into his view, sticking my tongue out. "Nah! Sorry, no can do!"

He aims his gaze up higher, his red eye flashing bright. A light suddenly explodes above my head, effectively startling me cold, and he takes my brief moment of surprise and comes in for an attack.

But he's making the mistake of telegraphing his intentions and I retreat, keeping my eye on his arm as it cocks back; when he swings, his fist is practically blurring through the air, and I lurch downwards with my life on the line. There's an impact several inches above my head, and the shockwaves nearly disorient me as they rattle into my skull.

He'd hit the wall so hard his fist was partially embedded. With a snarl he quickly reaches for me with his free hand but I've already dodged, his claws drawing sparks on the ground where I'd been. Yep, definitely trying to kill me. Just had to make sure.

I make a break, forming a mental map in my head of the twists and turns I could make to throw this guy off. He was right in the fact I was defenseless. I'd left my wrench and Alister's back on Qwark's ship, and forget the idea of pumping him full of missiles right now.

"I will gut you and force you to eat your own entrails, then strangle you with your own tail!" he roars after me.

Alright.

As hard as it was disregarding that, I needed a plan. These were usually Clank's job but he was off in dreamland now and I had a rampaging, psychotic one-eyed monster after me.

Hm…psychotic…one-eyed monster? I think I'd dub this guy Psyclops, just to spare myself the amusement for now.

But I think I have something. I needed to disorient him long enough so he loses my tail, then run and find the others to back me up.

Uh, not the flashiest or most intricate plan, but I'm trying to think on my feet here. It's not like it was any worse than running for my life.

I look over my shoulder and don't see him, nor do I feel his footsteps. I'd taken several weird turns, even doubled back once in the hallways. They were maze like and could get pretty confusing at some points, something I'd used to my advantage. After several years, I knew my way around here…mostly. Better than he did, at least.

Ha! He must've gotten lost! That was easy.

Psyclops sweeps around the corner just ahead of me like a tidal wave, reaching out. " _Surprise_."

" _HOLY—!_ " I screech to a dead halt, nearly stumbling over my feet as I back away and make a quick turn-around. The air behind me feels weighted, like he's on my tail. Which he literally is, but I'm trying not to think about what would happen if I slowed down for a moment.

Wait! That was it! I snicker to myself—ha! There was no way he could fit through a teleporter with all that weight on him.

All I had to do was remember where one was. Bearings, I had to get them quick. Let's see…I think if I were to run and take a right down this new hallway, it should lead to a four-way cross section. And if I made a left, I think…just maybe, there was a teleporter right before the storage closet at the end of that hallway.

At least I hope I was right. If not, I may as well get ready for this guy feed me my own insides.

"Stop running," Psyclops hisses, sounding a bit farther behind me.

"Only if you ask nicely and promise not to kill me!"

"Out of the question."

"Then this transaction is _canceled_."

He roars, then there's a thunderous crash and the sound of doors being punched clear from their tracks.

I think I've made him a bit upset.

He can't keep up with me and I'm gaining ground slowly and steadily. It helped I knew where I was going, and I've practically made it. Just a little more…up here, around the corner—

With Psyclops lagging behind me I make the left into the new hallway where the teleporter was. Yes, I was right! I practically throw myself into it…

...and nothing happens. Huh, that was a problem.

Then I notice a sticky note on the ground near it and lean over, reading it.

"'This teleporter has been deactivated for recreational purposes, one of which includes you taking your lazy behind to the stairs and walking instead of taking the easy way out! A fitness tip for a healthy lifestyle, from the great and lovable Qwark'. Well! How _redundant_ , and I am _utterly_ screwed!"

When I turn, Psyclops is shifting into view, hissing in delight as he forces himself into the hallway and effectively blocks off the only exit I had. I start to back up to the wall, wondering why Talwyn had random dead ends in her Space Station. These hallways weren't the only things about to be dead.

"Now I have cornered you," Psyclops says, his eye flashing as he looms towards me with a twisted grin on his face. "Take your last breaths, _little cat._ "


	3. Advent of Justice

Ordinarily, I'd say that the sensation of pain should have a modicum of appreciation. After all, if you don't feel pain, it's because you can't. Because you'd be dead.

But in my case, when it's overflowing into every pore of your body and pulsing in agonizing waves every time a behemoth presses you into a wall with a hand the size of your body, it'll probably make you wish you were dead.

The two claws wrapped around me constrict slowly like vices again, feeling like they were mere inches from snapping my body in half. Psyclops' grin grows wider when I let out another scream.

"Finally. What a gratifying sound, hearing your utterances of pain," he says. "I have been waiting too long to hear them. Now, now…it would not have been this bad for you, had you come to me when I asked you nicely…"

I didn't know I could ever feel this amount of agony from the inside. I'm almost positive most of my ribs were at least bruised, and every shallow breath I took resulted in a terrible pain radiating through my chest. There's no amount of struggling I can do to break free. My back was to the wall and his claws were literally scraping into both sides of it to fit around my body, trapping me in a virtual cage. This was a clear example of the situation screwing me in the behind, and I saw not a single way out.

"Why are you even here?" I manage to ask, flinching when he twitches his claws around me. Psyclops leans forward, leveling his massive head with mine. I have to shut my eyes and turn my head away as his red eye beacon gets lower, lest I get blinded. I risk squinting one eye open, seeing his teeth rise and point in wild directions as his mouth shifts grossly into a crooked smile.

"You do not have to worry about that, now do you? What would any gained knowledge do for a man on the way to his execution?"

I suddenly feel my head catch between two of his claws, the points digging into my head and chin. He forcibly turns my head around, making our faces lock. Even with my eyes shut I can see nothing but an endless palette of red.

"What's the matter? Why are your eyes closed?" Psyclops shakes my head slightly in his grip, as if teasing how easy it would be for him to rip it off my shoulders. "Is there something wrong with my face? I have been told I have a very… _unique_ smile."

About twenty different responses surged through my head at once, not that any of them would help me. Psyclops slightly clenches into my head and chin. "Open them. Your eyes, _now!_ "

He didn't have to say anything. The pain shooting through two different spots in my skull makes my eyes shoot open instinctively and I bite back a shout, twisting my head a bit. The red brightness in my face suddenly dims, and the light in his eye fades some so I'm not getting blinded.

"There," he growls, sounding almost reassuring. "Is that _better?_ "

I hesitate, unsure if he was trying to bait me into saying something I'll regret. Then he grunts in irritation, his mouth creasing down. "I ask questions. You give answers."

He starts to squeeze me again; it was hard to focus with pain overloading my chest. My tongue sticks slightly as I struggle to speak. "Y-Yes."

The pressure stops. His hand moves from my head, and he smiles.

 _"Good."_

His eye suddenly erupts, exploding like a supernova before my eyes.

I scream. The sensation was like looking directly at the sun, only a hundred times harsher. It feels like my corneas are getting impaled by searing rods of metal. The sensation is drilling even farther back and making my head feel like it is going to erupt.

The pain is _excruciating_. All of it, overflowing into levels I've never felt before. It's an absolute agony I would never wish on the most despicable of people. I twist and squirm, feeling my tear ducts overflowing as I try to wrench myself out of his grip.

"That yields excitable results," I distantly hear Psyclops, over the sound of my own screams. " _Again._ "

Another flash. Another explosion that makes my head feel like it's been filled with the fire of all the cosmos. It seems like I'm losing touch with my senses, the raw feeling in my throat from screaming and the sound of my own voice dimming. Everything in my vision falls from a fiery red to darkness, and I can feel myself gladly slipping into unconsciousness.

Then a sharp pressure around my middle jumpstarts my body, snapping me back awake in a moment. A strangled, half-startled gasp leaves my throat, then I buckle at the pain wracking in my chest and stomach.

Everything starts coming back into focus. There's this annoying, ugly sore buzzing behind my eyes, and everything looks doused in murky water as I drift back awake. Above me, Psyclops laughs. He removes the point of his claw from my stomach and I slouch forward, feeling sick.

"You poor bastard. Across the many years I have lived, I have never encountered a hardy specimen such as you. And your emotions," Psyclops leans in close, literally spacing our faces a foot apart. I instinctively shut my eyes but he doesn't seem to care now, taking in a deep, rumbling breath.

"You realize that you possess raw, unfiltered emotions? Have you noticed yet, or not? On a related note…it is interesting to see you vacate from the heights you used to occupy."

You know what'd be interesting? If this guy didn't speak like he'd just gotten launched out his mother's womb the day before.

"Quite the pity you cannot save others, let alone yourself," Psyclops continues, straightening up out of view. "And now I am faced with a dilemma…one that entails your immediate destruction, or a route less _practical_ , for the plan I have crafted."

His claws twitch a bit around my body. "I will let you decide, however. You are in a severe amount of pain? Frightened?"

There's a flash of steel in the air. I react out of instinct, slamming my head back to the wall and going still. He's got one of his claws to my throat.

 _"Uh huh-huh-huh_ ," Psyclops laughs. "Do not continue to try to hide it. The amount of fear radiating from your body is enticing. How would you like me to be quick about your death? By your proposition I will act, then you will worry about nothing more."

I don't say anything for a moment. My entire body feels flushed, cold chills making it tremble. As much as it was thrown at me in the past, I still never thought about exactly how I'd die. It was more of a 'it'll happen when it does' type of thing. Kind of like the idea of marriage.

But being tortured by a hulking monster that'd come out my girlfriend's basement wasn't on the list of expected ways to die. I didn't know how long it'd take for me to kick the bucket whenever he decided to stop screwing with me and slit my throat, but bleeding out or suffocating to death doesn't sound pretty.

At the same time there's an irresistible feeling I have, the urge to sneer in his face. The big jerk wanted me to beg for death? _Not_ going to happen. Who cares if I was on the end of Death's scythe, begging for mercy was Qwark's gig, not mine. Ever.

That was actually making me angry. I slowly raise my eyes up, looking at Psyclops. He seems to be grinning.

"If you appeal to me enough, I may reconsider using these next hours to make you wish for death with each passing second. I will exercise mercy, but again—you must ask for your quick end. Do you want it?"

I let out a slight scoff. "So you're really going to kill me if I ask for it, huh?"

Psyclops visibly grows curious about the sarcasm in my voice, but he grunts, nodding. "I promise," he says, raising a claw on the opposite side of his hand. "I _pinkie_ promise, huh-huh. That is how your culture expresses these types of deals, correct?"

A pinkie promise. He was…actually serious. I could never say that all my previous antagonists hadn't been colorful or eccentric in their own way, but I think this guy is really taking the cake.

I start laughing. I don't let up until my ribs are shrieking in absolute agony, until I'm practically wheezing. Psyclops has frozen, his head now tilted to the side in puzzlement.

The last chuckle leaves my mouth, and then it forms into a snarl. The claw pressed against my throat falters back a bit as I raise my head up higher, giving Psyclops a glare that could've made the entirety of Hoven melt.

"You're full of garbage, you ugly Frankenstein. You think I'm just going to bend over, ass-backwards, and beg for you to kill me?" I let out several cackles. "How about you take a reality check on who you're trying to kill, buddy, because I am _no_ lapdog."

I know I just dug my grave even deeper, because boy does he look pissed now. But my entire body was heated with rage and adrenaline, and my mouth doesn't seem to want to stop. This big bitch was going to learn that he'd have to take me out with some resistance.

"What's the _matter?_ " I snap, since he hasn't moved an inch. "Not the answer you wanted, was it? Wanted me to _beg_ , and _grovel,_ and _plead for your mercy_ well TOO BAD. Whine some more to me about it, you bald, two-faced, ugly _baby_."

His claws shake around my body, and I'm tense, expecting him to either snap my body in half or crush me into the wall any moment. But he doesn't do either of those things. He grips me tighter, then raises me up in the air.

 _"…stubborn little bastard_ ," he roars.

Everything is a blur as he turns on the spot, literally shot-putting me at the far wall. I only have a second and a half to prepare for the crap load of pain I'll be in the next few moments. It doesn't do reality the slightest of justices.

My back hits first. In that brief moment of impact, the world flashes white in my eyes. The pain in my entire body overloads to titanic proportions, my breath getting forced from my body.

Gravity doesn't give a damn, likely having a cosmic laugh as I fall and crash to the ground. Immobilization seizes my body. I think my arms and legs are the only things not broken or bruised by now.

As I struggle to get to my hands and knees, Psyclops is stomping towards me. "You simply cannot be foolish enough to talk so boldly, but it is clear what you are requesting," he grins, drawing sparks as he skims his claws along the walls. "You will see your end afraid, alone, and in agonizing pain."

"You t-tuh—" I cough then wheeze, grabbing my protesting chest. "…t-talk too much…"

"The feeling is mutual. But who is the one on the ground on his way to death?" Psyclops stops in front of me, glaring downwards. "Your resilience is exactly why I needed to detain you first. Incorrigible stubbornness, and for what reason?"

Psyclops steps close and I wince, highly expecting him to kick me in the side. The thought is horrible, but it doesn't happen. Instead he just prods me in the center of the back, eliciting a grunt from me. "Yet…at the same time, it is just so intriguing, how hardy you are despite your size. Of the many people I have tortured in the past, few have held to your example."

He leans up, drawing one claw against the other. "…I have just gotten reckless, letting your foolishness incite my anger. I must remember to tune out that mouth of yours…because I do not want you to expire. Not yet. And now, not for a while."

The tone of his voice makes my stomach roll nervously. At the same time my heart is speeding up, energy is starting to gush through my body and my aches were starting to dull. My eyes widen slightly, and I almost start hyperventilating. My chest prickling with soreness as I raise up on my arms ever so slightly.

Psyclops laughs. I glare up sideways at him, letting one last surge of the pseudo-energy known as adrenaline prep my body. He hadn't hurt me as much as he thought he did.

"Judging by the amount of shaking you are doing, it is finally settling in. It is about time for you to regret speaking those words of bravado earlier, am I right?"

 _Wrong._

Before he can even realize what's happened I've bolted up, scrambling on all fours to get my footing. _"WHAT—?!"_ Psyclops roars; I nearly trip over my legs as he slams a hand down, his claws almost catching the back of my ankles. I right myself, gasping as I tear down the hallway.

"Oh, _you try me_ ," Psyclops laughs angrily. Emphasis on the angry part. "Clearly, you are a glutton for punishment! I _accept_ the sentiment."

He is on my ass, so close it's hard to take a single step without the ground shaking underneath me from his tromping. I think I'm hitting speeds that I wouldn't have normally. Either it was the fear of being manhandled and tortured to death by a titan or how fast I was running, everything is just blurring by me as I go. Corner after corner I go, trying to remember, quickly, how the hell to just _lose_ this guy.

And he's not giving up, either. I must've incited him enough for him to get a weird angry-boost or something, because he's rampaging behind me, sounding more louder and violent than ever. My heart starts beating impossibly faster. I don't want to think what he'd do to me if he caught me again.

Without losing momentum I enter a new hallway, spotting a familiar mishap ahead. It was the door he'd knocked off its tracks earlier, and there were bits and pieces of mechanical gear lying around it.

I reach down, picking up a silver bolt that had become dislodged. A shadow is soon eclipsing my body; Psyclops is already on me, his outstretched hand rapidly filling my vision.

Out of desperation I blindly throw the bolt as hard as I can. It collides with his face where were his eye was located and makes a weird reverberating noise. The effect is immediate; he bellows in pain, jerking back hard and clenching his other hand over his face.

Yes, delicious time! As I'm darting away I hear something grinding, dragging along the ground. Psyclops' pained roar makes the entire hallway shake.

 _"DAMN you—!"_

He'd picked up the entire door and had thrown it.

It was almost surreal looking around, seeing it flying like a giant piece of metal cardboard at me. If it hit it'd kill me instantly. Maybe lethally injure me if I were lucky. But it would be the end.

The synapses in my brain instantly connect the instant I see the danger and my response is fast, automatic. My legs propel me to the side, skirting me from the spot before I got pinned. The door collides with the ground, emitting a grinding noise as it slides along. My landing isn't as spectacular as my takeoff and I stumble slightly, managing to regain my footing. That was way too close.

Psyclops gives a frustrated bellow behind me, which is like music to my ears. He was starting to slip—but it's getting harder, more agonizing to breathe as I run. I can already feel my stamina slipping away.

Just…for a moment, I needed to rest. I couldn't rationally think on what the next best course of action should be if I was rolling in pain. Or inwardly panicking more than I'd ever admit.

Now I'm actually traveling down the hallway with the security room on it, growing a bit dissuaded when I see the hole he'd made in the ground. It was at least seven feet wide; I cringe a bit, feeling a sharp twinge in my ribs. I'd make a jump like that normally, but then again this wasn't a normal scenario. Could I do it now?

As the thoughts pass through my head I'm already tensing for the jump, clearing the last few paces. Time to see for myself. Right at the edge of the tear in the floor I kick my legs up in a jump with all the strength I could muster, holding my arms out for the other end. My forearms catch the other side of the opening, and my boots hit the inside of the hole. Both forces horribly jolt my chest and I nearly lose my grip, barely saving myself from plummeting as a shrieking ball of fur down below.

There are no words to describe how badly my entire chest was hurting. I could say every swear from Solana to Bogon to Polaris and it still wouldn't amount to anything. Sweat is starting to run down the back of my neck, and dread wasn't too far behind it.

I can't hear him coming yet, but that'd likely change within seconds. Come on, come on…ignore the feeling of getting stabbed in ten different parts of your chest at once. Gotta get moving.

I reach my hand forward, finding a furrow in the ground. There's tears forming in the corners of my eyes as I start to move up, bracing my feet against the side of the hole to aid my climb. "Come on…" I grunt, managing to reach an arm farther up. "J-Just…ninety-nine…and a half…pounds…!" I think now, I was regretting more than ever putting weight on over the summer.

 _"Look at what we have here,"_ Psyclops snarls. Uh, his voice is way too close to the back of my neck, it literally sounds like he's on top of me.

My breath is coming a bit quicker as I turn my profile, seeing him casually walking up on his side of the hole. Were my ears not working right? How the heck had he snuck up on me?

"It appears that you've gotten yourself stuck up in a high place and can't get down," he reaches a hand out, his claws glinting dangerously. "Allow me to _help_ you," Oh, hell no—I was not going to let this asshole get me now!

I dig into the side of the wall, kicking myself upwards madly as I fight to get up to the other side. I hook my arms along the edge of the hole, ignoring the torn metal digging into my arms, and pull as hard as I can.

Psyclops makes it to the other side right as I'm pulling myself up the rest of the way. He quickly reaches forward for my retreating behind, which really makes me uncomfortable to put it like that, by the way—but his claws only snap shut on air, just missing my tail.

Once on the other side I can hardly get to a stand, swinging around to face Psyclops to see what he'd do next. His face gets this sneaky look to it.

And now he's bending at the knees, leaning forward slightly.

Oh, _crap._

There's no time to even catch my breath, and I retreat down the hallway. A second later I hear him grunt, then the heavy thud that follows as he lands across the hole makes me lose my balance. Oh come on, I didn't know mountains could jump!

" _Uh huh huh_ ," Psyclops laughs. "Don't blink..."

 _POP!_

"GAH!" I'm startled when, right as I run underneath it, the automatic light over my head bursts. I get a full frontal assault of thousands of glass particles to the face, but ironically I must have been in the middle of blinking because my eyes weren't bleeding now. I lower my head, covering it under my arms as I go, and Psyclops is laughing behind me as he makes every light I activate burst over my head. The glass pelting me was minimally harmless, but the brief flashes that came from the lights popping are starting to disorient me, making me feel nauseous.

I practically stagger around the corner, out of the straightaway, shaking my head to get glass dust out my fur. He was starting to pull more cards to get me. Great. Because that was _really_ what I want, for him to begin using that psychic voodoo bullshit he has, right?

There's rooms in this short hallway. I see two doors to my right and one at the far end, on the left. Which one, though?

Screw it, no time for thinking!

The doors open as I pass the first room, and I glance in as I run past—uhhh, what? Was that a closet filled with rubber chickens?

Whatever. The next door—yes! It's one of Talwyn's lounging rooms, as she calls it. I have no clue why she refers to it as that—if it has at least two couches and a TV, it's a living room to me.

Literally and figuratively breathless, I duck into the room with all speed. Out the corner of my eye I can see Psyclops' shadow growing on the floor at the other end of the hallway. Good, he hadn't seen me go in.

There was enough cover in here and I look around quickly for a hiding space. I could fit underneath the couches, but those felt way too open and obvious. In the refrigerator would be good; it was in the kitchen area on the back half of the room. He'd never think to look in a refrigerator.

Okay, that was the dumbest thought I've ever had. I couldn't even fit in there. I'm really starting to lose my mind here. Wait a minute—the row of cabinets lined up, next to the refrigerator. They looked big enough…

It was as good as it could get but if I was screwed, I was screwed. I run over, yanking the biggest one open and cramming myself in. It's a good thing no one was around to hear my manly whimper that comes out from my chest hurting in 132 different places as I move to get in all the way.

I find myself amongst a lot of somethings, things that feel like bags. I think this was a pantry and knowing my sense of irony, these things were probably bags of chips. Right as I've managed to force myself all the way to the back I freeze, hearing the sound of the door opening...

 _"…here, kitty kitty kitty,"_ comes a hiss.

I don't dare move. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest it's making it hurt. The dark inside of the cabinet spirals a bit, and I lean my head carefully to the side. My temples are starting to throb. I need to remember to keep breathing.

Slowly, I start inhaling air, then it immediately leaves me in a shaky exhale when a loud crash rings out. I hear the legs of something scraping the ground, then another sound of something heavy colliding to the floor. He's turning over furniture. Good thing I trusted my better judgement, or else otherwise he would've been impaling my body to the carpet with his claws right about now.

Psyclops gives a long, rumbling grunt then it falls silent. I remain still. I haven't heard the door again. He was trying to fool me, make me think the coast was clear.

Then several low, almost inaudible steps suddenly hit my ears.

And they're slowly creeping louder. No no no, not over _here…_

It falls silent for a moment. Then close by, I hear a slight clinking, something shifting across a surface. Fear is grasping me in cold sweat and it's all I can do to not start panicking. He's at the refrigerator, which can't be more than three feet away. I flinch when something rakes across the cabinet somewhere overhead. His claws.

Don't move, just don't move…my ears are filled with nothing but the pounding of my heart, nearly dampening the sound of the refrigerator tipping over. I'm starting to feel a bit faint. I can't trust myself to take a breath, with the fear that it would end up being loud enough for him to hear.

A short, hostile growl somewhere to my left makes my back arch with chills. He's getting pissed. I swallow deeply, praying that he would just _move_. Panic was smothering me, choking my senses. My thoughts turn into broken fragments without ends or meaning, quickly drowning in the raw fear that I seem to be hearing, tasting, _feeling_.

I shut my eyes, grinding my teeth together. Move. Move move move, please move or else I'll run and I can't run or else I'll get caught but I need to, go away go AWAY _GO AWAY—_

 _"Ah ha,"_ Psyclops says.

The air in my lungs suddenly vanishes. My body runs from hot to cold and something in me seems to fragment, my mind leaking with despair. He got me.

…. It's funny because I can't seem to hear anything. It's quiet.

I'm too scared to move, to even open my eyes. Was he trying amuse himself by waiting until I looked at him to kill me? That sounded like something he'd appreciate. Guy seems to like the idea of seeing the light fade out his victim's eyes.

I hear a step. Then another in an undistinguished location, more following. They're getting …quieter?

My breathing is labored, a slight whistling leaving my lungs as I open my eyes. I'm still here in the dark cabinet. Huh? He hadn't opened it up? For a moment I just stare blankly at the doors, stunned I was still living.

Then I scowl. The hell?

What type of epiphany did he have if it wasn't related to me? 'Ah ha, I'm a big jackass who causes more in property damage than the average death trooper.'? 'Ah ha, I need to start giving people hugs instead of death sentences.'?

I listen closely. It sounds like he's moving to the door, but I can hardly tell. Never would I think that he could be this quiet if he tried. The thought of a dangerous guy like him with the ability to sneak around makes me feel sick.

Psyclops makes a noise. It's further away, and sounds like a frustrated, slightly puzzled grunt.

"Wait a minute…the bastard hasn't…?" he hisses quietly, like he's talking to himself. "…damn. I will ring his neck for causing me trouble…."

I hear the doors to the room open. Carefully, quietly, I lean forward and push the cabinet door open a bit. Thank goodness it doesn't squeak.

Over the top of an overturned couch I can see Psyclops standing, facing outwards. His claws flash as he reaches up, hooking onto the decorative silver metal lining from the doorframe. He yanks hard, pulling it from the wall like a string off fabric. "Where are you, you skinny whore?!" he roars.

He couldn't have been expecting me to answer, right?

After his brief tantrum Psyclops snorts, stepping in the middle of the doorframe. He looks both ways down the hallway, then shuffles off to the right. The doors shut behind him.

I let out a relieved breath but don't move for a moment, listening for his footsteps; he's moving down the hallway, slowly. Distantly I can hear the last door on the left open…then close. Oh…! Does this mean I can leave…?

I open the cabinet door more, poking my head out. I literally just watched him walk out, but I still make sure the coast is clear. I clamber out of the cabinet cautiously, sliding out along with the bags of…okay, what were these things? They practically saved my life.

Cheese balls. Ah, Talwyn knew these were my favorite, she must've put a ton of them in each pantry! Deathly ironic how I found _that_ out.

I drag myself over to the overturned couch, placing myself in a way where I can't be seen from the door, and lean back. I run my fingers along my chest, which is heaving unevenly. I can't feel anything abnormal. I thought he'd broken at least one of my ribs but nothing feels like it's out of place or poking me from the inside. That was a surprise.

For several minutes I rest, willing my heartrate back into the normal range. I take in a deep breath, or try to, and it feels like I've been axed in the chest. He jacked me up so bad.

I brace my arms and elbows against the couch, gingerly standing up. Several minutes was too long for me to stay in one spot. It was time to get a move on.

To where, I didn't know. I just needed to get out of here before Psyclops decided to do another spot check. I start moving stiffly for the door, then accidentally kick a bag of cheese balls.

I kneel down and pick them up. For the road, of course.

* * *

As soon as I near the door it opens automatically, and I freeze. Shoot—had he heard that?

I trot down the hall, the hairs on the back of my neck erect as I hug the far right wall to avoid triggering the door to the room he was in. I bound around the corner. My legs keep taking me forward, and I don't stop for a second.

A dull crash behind me makes my legs skitter, my heart skip a beat. He's not behind me. Yeah, just let the big bastard keep breaking things. That was completely fine by me if he was distracted. Takes the pressure of probable death and/or certain death off my shoulders slightly.

I follow several hallways blindly. I can't even think straight, I just wanted to find the quickest path away from danger.

No…I had to start using my head. Find everyone else. Right.

Talwyn could've been sleeping in her own execution chamber for all I knew, and I can't remember jackshit about the hallways with the suites where Clank and Qwark were.

Well, I've used my head and deduced that I'm screwed.

Not too much I could do, except run around like a blind lab rat in a maze. I'm a wheezing mess by the time I finally slow down, cranking up slowly to a crossroads. Right or left? I just decide to go left, hoping to run into some type of landmark so I could try to pinpoint my location. Just one place I recognized, that's all I needed; then maybe I could work with what I had.

But this situation is the epitome of disaster. The security room's down, which meant our defenses were hosed. It wasn't hard to figure out Psyclops was here for some type of vendetta, and the timing of his arrival had to have corresponded to ours somehow.

I just can't for the life of me figure out how the hell he _got in_ , especially without alarms going off. Even then, the inquiries about the matter were the easily digestible part. Getting this guy out of the Station would be utter hell.

Damn it, gone were the days where I could blow bad guys to hell. I think even having either of my wrenches would've been better than just nothing.

I think for a minute; where was the hangar? I knew it was on this floor, and if I could make it there and get that praetorian wrench…A dim recollection surfaces the more I think about it; slowly, with me practically feeling realization creeping to nirvana, I grasp some sort of understanding.

Okay, hold it…think, think. The wrench's head generated electricity whenever a certain spot on the shaft had pressure applied to it. At least, that was how I think it went.

Right? I'm drawing a blank suddenly. The notion seems familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. I try to remember when I'd seen Alister using it.

When I give it a second thought, that's not a good reference at all. He had wielded that wrench like it was just a third limb, with little effort.

Forget it. I couldn't use the level of maneuverability he had as a learning reference. That just couldn't be done, especially on such a short notice, with my brain reluctant to retain even a small amount of information. It was still deceptively heavy and had a long reach, so I could still use it to slap Psyclops around the best I could.

I envision doing that to him, then start cracking up. My laughter sounds horrifying to my own ears as it bounces off the walls, echoing down the empty hallway. Boy, was that going to suck.

Earlier I'd considered the notion of getting some backup from the others, but now it was a completely null idea. Psyclops did imply that he was going to get to everyone here after me, if I'd been hearing right earlier.

My hand clenches vengefully on the bag of cheese balls. It might be a long shot, but now I find myself caring less about the odds of success of taking Psyclops on by myself. I didn't care what I had to do or the difficulty it'd present. If push comes to shove, I'd beat the ever-loving shit out of him with _both_ wrenches if I had to.

There was no way I was going to risk letting anyone getting caught in the crossfire because _another_ nutcase wants my head.

Not…again. Not if I can help it.

The thought occurs to me—did he know where everyone slept? After all he had known where I was. Magically.

This is suddenly making me more nervous. Crap! I need to act faster than this! But I was broken down, on my last leg, hobbling like a drunk and clutching a bag of cheese balls. Seemed like as good a time as any to think of an alternative.

I was concerned with healing myself, so I had to find where Talwyn kept her reserves of Nanotech. Then after that, I could make it to the hangar somewhere on this floor, equip myself, goad Psyclops after me then beat the hell out of him!

…Wait, did I just make a plan? It had more holes than I had stripes, but it held to my standards, anyway! Wow, I'm actually proud of myself!

"Oh, Ratchet. There you are."

I look over my shoulder. The light right above the perpendicular intersection between my hall and another is flickering off but relights; Clank is walking from the other corridor, standing under the pool of light.

I don't understand. It is obvious that this was Clank, right? I mean…I thought he was asleep but he's right here, in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. That didn't make sense. Did it? Why would he be out and walking around at this time? He didn't have a reason to. My mind seems to be getting a kick out of playing tricks on me as of late, so I'm sure that's what's happening now.

Great, so now I was hearing voices _and_ seeing hallucinations. I'm perfectly sane people, I promise. I decide to humor the figment of my imagination. "Oh, hey there…Clank."

The-thing-that-looks-like-Clank puts a finger to his mouth, tilting his head to the side. "Are you finally heading to bed? Our suite is this way," He takes a step forward, then I realize that the lights are responding to his movement. Hallucinations couldn't do that.

Huh. It actually…seems like he's real. I can't make any connection _why_ Clank would be here in front of me in the first place, but what if…I wasn't imagining him?

"…Clank?" I ask, turning around all the way. "Is that…you?"

His expression is neutral. "Yes. I am quite positive that I am Clank, son of Orvus and a partial Zoni by nature."

All of my emotions suddenly burst forward in a wild laugh as I charge forward, my arms open.

" _AHH-HA HA HAHAAAA—!"_

I lunge. He's in the middle of taking a step backward when I tackle him in a hug. "CLANK!" We go sliding a few inches across the ground and my chest is now splintering with pain, but I don't care. "Oh—!" Clank stutters, shifting a bit rigidly in my hold. "Ah, Ratchet…did you miss me?"

"Oh man Clank, you're not a figment of my imagination!" I shout. "I was starting to get nervous and-and-and I thought that something had happened to you but you're here, I'm touching you and you're real!"

I think a full five seconds pass before he finally moves again.

"Well, I am happy if you are," Clank says. He's giving me a curious look, as I get off of him. "I am assuming that sentry duty made your separation anxiety kick in?"

"Clank, there's a big guy who's broken through the defenses and invaded the Apogee Space Station to kill us all!"

He stares at me blankly for a moment. I think I piled too much illogical information on him, and I bet his mind his reeling with reasons why none of what I said should've been true, let alone feasible. Finally, he just glances at the bag of cheese balls in my hand and says, "…come again?"

"Okay, so I was manning my post and all that, right?" I say quickly, becoming paranoid that Psyclops will hear all the noise we were making. "I may have fallen asleep due to the lack of excitement, and when I woke up I was in the dark and the entire security room was down. When I went to investigate the reason for the power outage, some big dude just pops out the ground and starts having beef with me! I promise you I've never met him before, but somehow I have this talent of ticking people off I don't even know. So ever since then I've been run— _retreating_ , to find a way to stop him so he can't torture and murder us all."

I'm winded by the time I finish. Clank doesn't look as stunned, now appearing contemplative. Then he squints one of his eyes, almost looking pained.

"That is a wide web of conflict. At the moment, I believe our main objective would be expunging this…character first. Then we can get to raising the defenses and such. In the meanwhile, we have to be cautious to ensure no harm comes to Captain Qwark or Ms. Apogee."

"I'm hoping neither of them wanders out, or Psyclops gets to them before we can. I don't want them to be— _augh!_ "

An arrow of pain pierces into my ribcage and my knee hits the ground as I kneel, clenching my hand to my side. Clank immediately walks forward. "You are injured," he says, his tone a mix between revelation and concern. I wait several seconds, waiting for the pain to settle.

"Uh…yeah. He managed to corner me for a moment," I finally get out. "H-Hey…you remember where Talwyn keeps her Nanotech? I need some. A lot, actually…"

"Yes. Come with me, quickly."

* * *

I think that'd been the last straw for my body, that encounter with Clank. He practically has to hold me up because I'm so hunched over in pain it's hard for me to walk. While we awkwardly travel down the halls I still listen closely, paranoid. If Psyclops locked onto us now he'd have us both.

Every now and again I would have to stop from a painful stitch in my side, or to catch my breath. Once or twice I jump at an ambient noise, thinking it was Psyclops, and end up startling Clank at the same time.

Thankfully we lurch into the closest storage closet a half hour later, stumbling in amongst crates and discarded equipment. At the far end there's a light blue glow, radiating from a partially exposed transparent box.

"Is that it at the back?" I slur, fighting the urge to lie down and sob myself to sleep. I place a hand on random objects, carrying myself to the back of the closet. This bag of cheese balls kept getting in the way, so I was going tear them apart. Right after I healed myself. I hook my fingers onto the edge of the box of Nanotech, groaning slightly as I try to pull it out.

"Ratchet, do you need me to get that?"

"No, I got it," the box catches between some clutter, making me lose my slight grip, and I stumble back weakly. "On second thought, I don't got it."

Clank walks forward, then shatters the box with one swing of his fist. He bends over and starts picking up the orbs of Nanotech that fall out, gathering them up in his arms.

"Could you drop 'em, on the floor please?" I ask, kneeling. "Right in front of me?"

He looks a bit astonished but does it anyway, setting the Nanotech in front of me. I lie my body gently on top of the pile. Several of the orbs crack under my weight and tremendous relief floods into my system, but I start to roll to my back, making sure to break more Nanotech at the same time. Psyclops had squeezed my entire body cavity, so I felt that this was the quickest way to get to most spots.

The quickest and the most satisfying. It's great therapy somehow. The rolling—not the nanotechnology patching up my skeletal system from critical injuries.

When I'm sure all the Nanotech is used up I get up carefully, assessing myself. My pain scale has been diminished by a landslide and the first thing I do is take in the deepest breath I can imagine. Oh, was it great, being able to breathe normally and not feel like my chest was about to collapse in on itself. " _Hahhh_ ," I breathe out, then stand up and start stretching my limbs.

"Interesting. I have never observed that type of behavior pattern from you," Clank says, pointing at the ground.

"Oh, that rolling? Did wonders on the body, I gotta say," I pause with my arms over my head, raising an eyebrow at him. "… _behavior_ pattern, huh?"

"Yes, you heard me right. After all, someone has to take notes on Lombax ethology."

"I'm not quite sure what that means, but does it have something to do with those journals entitled 'Ratchet's Behavior' I've found lying around the house?"

"Indeed. And I know that when Ms. Apogee stimulates a certain spot behind your ears, you—"

 _"Ah-dat-dat!_ Now wait just a minute! How'd you find out about that?!"

Clank narrows his eyes mischievously, just _showing_ how aware he is of the amount of blackmail he now has against me. "I have my ways," he states, with a hint of glee in his tone.

It makes me briefly wonder how much he'd seen in the past when Talwyn and I were doing business in our apparent privacy, but then again this was Clank. And he doesn't judge people for a second, but for some reason I can't shake the feeling of my entire face growing a bit hotter.

"Okay, mister. By no accounts will you relay anything you've set your bright, smug little optics on to anyone else, or else I'll find your stalker and release her on you."

"Then I will release any confidentiality between us in turn. That is a bit of a paradox ending in my favor, is it not?"

Clever little… "Fine! Let's just not…uh, be distracted by stuff like-like that," I say quickly. "Yeah Clank, you just keep your behavior studies an' all that jazz in the corner, aight? We got a bad guy to bust!"

"I see your attempt to shift to a less embarrassing matter, so I will follow in turn," he matrixes, dodging the swipe I make at his head. "But—on a more serious note I have been wondering, how exactly did he injure you?"

"Oh, Psyclops? He's a big guy. Apparently he thought I'd make an amusing toy to squeeze."

Clank's eyes widen slightly. "He _did_ that?"

"Uh hah," I say, sitting down and slamming my fist on the bag of cheese balls. It bursts open on both ends. "Agh, hate it when that happens…"

I then proceed to tell Clank in greater detail what'd happened from the beginning. Moments of bodily torture and overwhelming pain were never my favorite things to recount. The entire time Clank is silent, but his expression cycles between anger and disgust…well actually those two emotions looked pretty similar on him, so I'll go out on a limb and assume he was pissed the entire time he was listening.

"But, oh well," I say, after a short pause from where I'd ended the tale. "His fault for trying to break my mind instead of my legs. What I don't get is how someone nearly the size of Snowball got in the Station."

I tilt my head and hold the bag near my mouth, dumping the rest of balls in my mouth like a real champ. Clank meanwhile takes my lack of manners in stride, rubbing a hand to his chin.

"The grid was up. We knew that for sure," he says.

"Bfhh nwh ihhno, n hhs inehr."

"English. And swallow, before you choke!"

"K ma," I swallow, then try again. "I said, 'but now it's not and he's in here.'"

Clank places his hands behind his back, then starts to pace the floor. "That clearly indicates it was lowered from within, but I cannot see how. A1-S has never exhibited treasonous behavior, so I assume that she would have had to have received a calamitous malfunction somehow."

He hesitates for a moment, then offers me a cautious glance. "Ratchet…you did not try to…?"

"Nope. Kept my hands off anything and everything," I say with a chuckle, dusting orange powder off my gloves. "I've accepted that when it comes to tech, I'm as subtle as a homicidal maniac armed with weapons of mass destruction. But already, something's poppin' off—I mean come on, we haven't even been here _twelve hours_ and some nut job's trying to throw a monkey wrench in the plan to keep Qwark safe."

"That gives me a very strong feeling that this was a pre-planned coup," Clank says. "This…Psyclops, as you call him. Please give me any attributes you have noticed."

"Bigger, likely stronger than Neftin Prog but twice as sadistic and with an attitude that makes milk spoil, topped with a level of savviness that rivals my own."

"That sounds ugly."

"You're right, I almost forgot to throw that one in there too. And what can we not do?" My mouth splits into an ear-to-ear smile. "Go by our standard, our normal, routine of running and gunning, right? So uh Clank, that head on your shoulders…can you use it to whip up a plan?"

He looks thoughtful for several moments, staring at the floor. I have an ear tilted to the door. I'm pretty sure I hear a very, very faint thud somewhere. Since I've previously witnessed Psyclops making efforts to keep quiet to avoid being detected, times where he actually made ambient noises concerns me. Maybe he was moving from floor to floor? Breaking things like the big jackass he was?

" _Ah_ ," Clank says finally.

That single word was the transition of the situation going from 'bad' to 'not-so-bad'. He looks up at me, his eyes gleaming a bit mischievously. "I do have an idea. It has to do with utilizing some of Ms. Apogee's assets."

"Tal's got plenty of great assets, alright. Which one are we gonna tap into?"

Clank motions me closer, leaning up and whispering it in my ear. The plan was so simple, so dangerous, so spur of the moment. It was beautiful.

"Ahhh, ha-haaa," I laugh, standing up. "I got you. Oh, the joys of improvisation. Morning's gonna feel like a blessing when we're done with this."

Clank turns his head as he's walking to the door, smirking at me. "That is not a new prospect for us, now is it?"

* * *

"You said take a right after the next left, right?"

"No, I said take a left and then make a right."

"Right!"

"No, left. Not right."

"Well, guess there's no right answer to this, 'cause I'm left completely confused!"

"Oh, pardon my inconsistencies. You are correct."

"You're totally distracted," I say, peering around the corner and clearing the hallway before walking into it. "What are you doing back there, anyway?"

"It is just a bit of a…fallback plan, if things go a bit awry," he answers. I hear a slight clink, like metal on metal, and then his radiator core shutting. "Heh! You're way ahead of me, pal," I say. "I thought I'd have to make it to the hangar by myself and try to take him out with Alister's wrench. Good thing I ran into you. By the way, what were you even doing walking around at this time of night?"

"I found myself unable to sleep for some reason," Clank says. "After a mental self-evaluation that lasted .573 of a second I concluded it was because of my concern for you, Ratchet. I have not seen this amount of stress on you in quite a while, and that is what prevented my subconscious from gaining relief from slumber."

I stop, as Clank continues, "And so I did not sleep, but in fact left our room about forty-five minutes after entering with the intent of finding you. And of all things, you fleeing from a late-night assassin was not something I expected to find."

"I'm glad you did," is all I say. I don't think there were any words to really describe how thankful you are for a person to just be there. And Clank has always, always had the best timing of anyone I know.

It makes me feel braver with him covering my back now, as it always does. Even more so than usual, seeing as to how this situation wasn't as open-and-shut as previous ones.

"Left," Clank says.

And plus, _plus_ —I now had a living map on my back. Weren't best friends just grand in more ways than one?

I lean around the corner carefully. This was weird. Psyclops must've jacked up the power in more places than I initially thought, because these lights weren't functioning the right way. Some only manage to flicker weakly as I pass, others seemed inclined to ignore the 'nighttime' function of the station and stayed on permanently. On the other extreme, some never make the attempt to come on.

The part of the Station I'm in has a mix of all those variations. The hallway we're in is well lit in the middle, fading into darkness behind us. At the end I can see the outline of the door, illuminated every two or three seconds as the light above it sputters on.

The almost relaxing silence that'd been surrounding us a while is instantly shattered when a dull, but heavy bang sounds nearby. The walls shudder and I jolt to a halt, my heart rate immediately running a few ticks faster.

 _Crap._ He was close, closer than I would've expected. Clank moves slightly on my back. "What was that?" he asks, his voice so low I can barely hear him.

"It's him," I answer just as quietly, trying not to bolt wildly in one direction and end up running into him. I turn my back to the wall, glancing down both stretches of the hallway. "It's a bit too soon for him to be onto us…"

And what was this racket I'm suddenly hearing? I can't gauge exactly where the origin of all these noises are coming from. They sounded like taps of different length and intonation, ranging from a spoon clinking against a glass one moment to a hammer on a metal pipe the next.

Now there's scraping. Ugh, it was like someone was covered in nails and shuffling through the walls. Clearly Psyclops' big ass couldn't fit in a wall, so were these ambient noises the Station made or was I just paranoid? After a stretch of seconds things start to quiet down, until it's silent. Okay…I don't know what is worse, hearing noises or deafening silence. I'm starting to get nervous; I needed to know where he was, now!

At the same time, I can't stay in one spot. I've got to keep going. With some reluctance I start off down the hallway again.

I just realized I hated being frozen on the spot out of fear. Embarrassing! It wasn't enough that I was running with my tail between my legs earlier, now the big bastard doesn't even have to be in view to make me freak out.

I take in a deep breath and let it out. Alright, now was not the time to be thinking about that part of your mind called the ego, Ratchet, there—

 _"Ratchet...!?"_

It's rare that Clank sounds so terrified, but he does. And I just _know_ why.

I turn around. The corner where the hallways meet are dark and I can make out the faint outline of a colossal figure, standing at a slight lean. A beam of red is cutting out of the blackness.

I widen my stance, showing resistance that he likely didn't want to see. Psyclops finally shows signs of life, looming out of the darkness until the light illuminates him in a partial shadow. "You…why have you not succumbed to your injuries?" he hisses.

"Awww, are you upset all that torture got erased? Sorry big guy, but even you can't beat nanotechnology. Any way as it stands, you ain't gonna get me again."

I turn around, bend over, and start shaking my rear at him. "Na-na-na boo boooo, poo on you-hoooo!" Clank erupts in a fit of giggles, but Psyclops isn't so amused. With a furious roar he swings both of his arms out, his claws splitting metal as they imbed themselves in the walls. Time to _jet._

Of course he doesn't make it that simple. I'm on a fast approach to the door when there's a sharp crackling that makes my eardrums pop a little, and I barely have time to cover my head before the light explodes right above me. Glass pelts my upper body, but I shake it off and keep moving.

" _The robot,_ " Psyclops notices, his tone sounding a bit too happy. Like he wanted to do to Clank what he had done to me. Something in me snaps, and so does my mouth.

"He's off limits, you oversized zombie-looking son of a—"

Clank nudges my side. " _Ratchet."_

"Fine!" I violently throw up my right hand, forming a gesture I'm sure he knows the meaning of. " _Keep on,"_ Psyclops hisses, his trademark earth-shaker footsteps pounding along behind me. He laughs sadistically, and I hear him drawing his claws together. "I cannot _wait_ until I get my hands on you again…"

I dash the last few feet, throwing myself through the door, "Nope," I say quietly, bolting around the corner of the short hallway to the big doors at the end of a new one. "Not again, ever."

Clank is still chuckling to himself. "He seems like a naturally irritable fellow…"

Lights flare on in a wave motion as I enter the hangar and it seems oddly phantasmal being in here. Must've had something to do with it being late at night with a killer monster running after us. "Ratchet, the terminal," Clank says.

It was used to manually lock down the hangar, and was located right next to the doors. I back him up to it and let him get to work, hearing Psyclops tromping closer in the background. He was almost on us. Clank's tapping away at the keys, and… _there_ —a loud beep comes from the terminal.

A half second later I hear at least three different locking mechanisms activate in the doors, sealing them off.

Then a moment after _that_ , something big, fat, and ugly crashes into the doors at full speed. They tremble but hold, and Psyclops' pained grunt is pretty satisfying. I crack up, tapping my fist backwards against Clank's as I stride off. "Heh heh heh, sucker…"

* * *

Pound after pound, blow after blow—that door was sturdy, but even it couldn't hold against so much titanic pressure. They break down the middle, metal bending outwards as a pair of large arms force themselves through the gap. A red eye beams into the hangar.

Psyclops lowers himself then drives his weight forward, plowing through the doors and stampeding into the room a bit before stopping. He breathes heavily as he glances around, his eye scanning across the seemingly empty hangar.

The sound of electrify discharging makes his head rear up, right in time for him to take a bright comet of crackling energy to the face. The big guy gives a startled grunt, his body jerking back a bit in surprise as sparks ripple off his face. "…Ugnh," Psyclops shakes his head, then presses the rough palm of one hand to the side of his face with a growl, glaring around.

"If you're looking for the guy who just gave you a dose of Vitamin E, that'd be me."

He follows the sound of my voice, rolling his gaze up and spotting us standing on top of Qwark's ship. I have the praetorian wrench in hand, its top head still crackling slightly. "Hi again," I say. "How's that for me being defenseless?"

"You still are, despite the amount of bravado you are showing," Psyclops says, now looking unruffled about being shot in the face. "You refuse to learn, I see. I will bear any resistance you show until you have _none_ left. Do you think you have reached an advantage because you have found the robot?"

He barks in laughter. "A foolish sense of comfort, you possess. The both of you have very deluded minds if you think the outcome will result in my termination. Yet as I claim an inevitable victory, your attitude is appallingly confident."

Psyclops spreads his stance, opening his hands into a hostile position. "My suspicions have been reaffirmed. You are not going to make the completion of my task easy," he hisses. "And for that, you both will die with minds filled with nothing but a fragmented version of the reality you once knew, and in the highest amount of mortal pain possible."

"Save for the empty death threats, great observation you've made, and it's the only relatively intelligent thing I've heard you say yet," I state. "I'll give you the credit. If you hadn't gotten cocky, you would've had me earlier. But now? _You're_ the one who's in denial if you think you can match the both of us when we're working together."

" _Uh_ _huh-huh_ ," Psyclops utters. "That throws the question of who will succeed up in the air, does it not? The both of us seem to think what the other does not. There will be no middle ground to this conflict, but I am well aware if I make yet another careless mistake, I will lose sight of my objective."

"You don't have to make any more mistakes to lose this one, buddy."

"Then come down to my level," Psyclops grins. "That is when we can talk more."

For a moment I stand still, waiting for Clank to get on. "Remember what we need to do, Ratchet," he says quietly. I show no sign that I hear him but I understand.

Regardless of what Psyclops wanted, we weren't settling things here. We only came to pick up my trademark weapons of choice for bludgeoning, the one in my hand more specifically. While I had made the connection earlier about using the praetorian wrench the right way Clank still had to tell me to hold down and keep the pressure, like how he had to help me in the range a while ago.

And after building power, it was easy for me to give a hefty swing and let the bolt loose. Seemed fundamentally simpler than using a gun for whatever reason, and Clank was pretty much what I was counting on to help me to fully utilize this thing.

But that didn't have to be the case.

I think it was clear that I was faster, more agile than Psyclops could ever hope to be. That was going to be my trump card against him, what Clank had based our plan on. Psyclops thought that my abilities only lay with using weapons and such? He was about to get proven wrong in a way he would regret.

I jump off the ship, letting Clank hover us down. My boots touch the floor of the hangar with a soft thump, and immediately I shift my lower body into a ready stance. Psyclops is standing hunched several yards in front of me with his hands outstretched, claws bared. His shoulders hike up.

 _"You will fall."_

Like an almighty freight train he leans forward and pushes off, emitting a bellow that I can feel vibrating every atom of my body.

Air leaves my nose in a short gust and I stand my ground. Watching. Letting his stampeding figure be the only focus I have. Each step he takes seems to drive his bloodlust and rage up the wall, and as he closes the last several yards he emits a shrill scream, raising a hand adorned with five-tipped spears of metal.

I react the instant his arm swings down, throwing myself forward. Steel flashes above my head and a screeching fills the air as his claws strike the front of Qwark's ship, missing me. The rush of air from his blow nearly sweeps me off course mid-lunge but my hands and feet plant to the ground, sticking the landing.

Psyclops' head jerks down and he spots me squatting around his ankles. He lurches a knee downwards. I push off into a sideways roll and with a painful sounding thud his knee crashes down to the floor, denting it slightly. Swearing, he buckles down in pain. I jump to my feet, brandishing the double-ended wrench. "Clank?"

"Hold," he tells me.

 _I got it_ —my brain understands. Before I forget or lose focus I clench my hand tight on the shaft, building up electricity. Psyclops whirls to face me, his eye gleaming in fury. It's enough to make my concentration break, and the head of the wrench almost loses its charge completely. "Keep the pressure," Clank reminds me.

"Right," I mutter, shaking my head a bit and readjusting. Okay, hold focus for just a bit…longer…

"I dare you to make one slipup, you bold little pussy," Psyclops roars, standing.

 _…now!_

Psyclops practically runs into the stealth bolt that I release, his left shoulder getting clipped. It makes him skip a step and stumble to a halt. "I will snap that power-stick and impale your chest with both ends!"

"Gotta catch me first!"

He lunges in a tackle, but he's way too slow for a maneuver like that and I easily avoid him by dodging backwards. What makes it better is that he learns what he can and can't do when he trips over his own legs, going down like a giant oak with a massive thud. I'd wager it'd take a moment for a big guy like him to get up.

At the sound of my footsteps Psyclops raises his head, growling when he sees me smirking down at him. "You wanted this?" I ask, raising the praetorian wrench up high.

"Hold," Clank says. The head of the wrench pops energetically with electricity as I clench both hands on the shaft, and yes—that _does_ make the discharge twice as powerful.

 _"Have it!"_

A line of electricity arcs in the air as I swing downwards, smacking Psyclops in the side of the head as hard as I can. His head is skewed to the side and he roars as electricity explodes across his face. I follow through with the swing, then rotate my arms up and behind my head before slamming the wrench down on the top of his head so hard it makes my arms rattle.

Out the corner of my eye I suddenly see movement; it's his hand, moving to grab me. I squat slightly at the knees, bending over backwards and kicking myself off the ground. My spine stretches comfortably as I flip backwards in the air, catching the ground in a one-armed handstand.

My momentum takes me the rest of the way, and the world rights itself. When my feet hit the ground I stay in a squat, momentarily eyeing Psyclops. He looks as dazed as he possibly could, his hand now limp on the ground after failing to catch me.

I grin. Good. Then we were outta here.

I bolt to the side, making a wide berth around Psyclops and making a break for the door. "Thanks for the help back there, buddy."

"It is why I am here," Clank says lightly.

"Tactless!" Psyclops snaps. I look over my shoulder to see him punch a dent into the already mangled front of Qwark's ship, then lumber to his feet. I hold up my pointer finger and thumb of my left hand, forming an L. "Loser, with a capital L!"

"You seem to take great amount of enjoyment antagonizing him," Clank notes, as Psyclops bellows in anger after us.

I leap through the ruined doors. "I can't help it, to be honest. It's pretty hilarious to see big, evil babies throwing tantrums. Now, where am I headed again?"

"The cryostasis chamber is on the top floor. We can reach it by lift."

"I couldn't believe it when you told me Talwyn had a cryostasis chamber in the first place! That had to have been one of her newest additions…"

"She mentioned it earlier to me in passing. Since she is an active member of the Polarian Defense Force and has used her station as a base for government affairs before, the Defense Center on Igliak provided her with funding for utilities that could used for future matters."

There's a loud crash behind us. "Future became present pretty quick, eh?"

"Yes, and in a similar vein to the way we…momentarily held Vendra Prog in stasis, the idea is to detain any criminal if needed. A temporary jail, if I may."

"With how much attention Talwyn's Space Station attracts, it was pretty good foresight," I stop at the end of the hallway, waiting until Psyclops runs into view at the opposite end yards away before darting off again. "Huh, ya know…the PDF has been pretty on top of things lately. _That's_ unusual."

"It _is_ a one-eighty degree turn of behavior," Clank laughs.

"Heh-hey, you're the one who said it. Uh…why's all the lighting crapping out even worse now?"

I slide to a short halt, transitioning into a more cautious jog into the nearly pitch black hallway. Okay, Psyclops sure loves to leave power outages in his wake, because it was not like this when I came through earlier. Now it seems like everything is in the dark and I can't see a speck of light anywhere.

So of course I can't see where I'm going now, mostly relying on my horrible mental mapping. I was probably about to run us into a wall. "Oh, shoot…hey Clank, switch to night vision and help me out here…"

"One moment…" there's a faint whirring noise, and I can feel his head turn. "Stop—" I do. "Now extend your arm slightly to the left," Clank adds. My hand is touching a wall a split second later. See, what'd I say?

I move along the wall carefully. This was seriously going to inhibit our speed, and I especially hated having my senses blocked ever since that egg-splosion. The fact that I could still hear Psyclops in the background was the only reason I wasn't sweating marbles now.

"There is a corner to your left. Take caution when going around it," Clank says, and I carefully slip around the turn.

"This corridor is approximately twenty meters long. Disregard the adjacent hallways until I give you notice. This is the most directed route to the lifts that lead up to the third floor."

I trust Clank's judgment wholeheartedly, but it blew not being able to see. I have to keep my movements slow and more precise and I still stumble a bit every now and again.

"Center your weight," Clank says, right before I go tipping sideways when my hand suddenly has nothing underneath it. My breath leaves me in a grunt as I fall to the floor, and I see light…oh no, those were just the stars popping in my eyes.

"…alright," I say casually, getting to my knees and spreading my hand out for another wall. "Guess I fell into a side corridor!"

I think I hear a chuckle from Clank, but there's no laughter in his voice when he speaks next. "Keep going forward."

When I finally take to a wall and stand up, I feel even more disoriented. Which makes zero sense in all actuality since I can't see worth a blarg's ass, but it's only a minor blip on my current scale of screw ups.

"Uh, so am I facing the right way or…" I turn my head blindly, then nearly get startled out my skin when I can see a point of red lurking back somewhere in the darkness. _That_ sure as hell wasn't the right way.

I go completely still. Slowly I move my left hand, pressing it up against a wall. "Keep your hand there," Clank mutters quietly, and I freeze it in position, trying to gain orientation on where I was heading. The red light doesn't move. I'm holding my breath; does Psyclops see me?

"Yes, I _am_ looking right at you, little cat," his disembodied voice faintly snarls.

I start shuffling backwards and spin myself around, keeping my fingertips to the wall as I start jogging blindly down the hallway. "Okay, bad news. He _can_ see in the dark," I say, not really caring that my voice cracks a bit. "We are almost there, right?"

"Yes. If he has not ruined the power in the next area, we should have clear visibility soon. Slow down a bit, then get ready turn to your right—"

A heavy force suddenly rams into me from the front.

I bounce back, stumble over my feet and hit the ground on my tailbone. That's a really sensitive spot but I barely register the pain, my windpipe nearly squeezed in panic.

"What was that? What did I just run into, Clank?"

"I am not sure. I felt that as well…" he answers, the light of his eyes reflecting out the corner of my vision as he turns his head around. "I do not see anything, but you appear to not have run into a wall. Tread carefully Ratchet, it might be another trick of his…"

I don't hesitate and have no choice but to start trotting off again, gripped by a paralyzing sensation of paranoia all over. There was too much weird stuff going on, and I just need light now so I could see where the hell I was going, so I can at least be comforted by the fact that I wasn't running into ghosts. I was under the impression Psyclops' night vision wasn't as stellar as Clank's, or else he would've gotten me by now. He should've learned from taking his sweet time with—

Hey wait a minute…I catch a whiff of something strange. No, not strange—smells really good. Were we near the mess hall? It sure smells like meat that had been tenderized, like a steak. Or maybe I was just hungry, but it sure smells like something's cooking and—

No, I had to pay attention to where I was going, forget that!

"I have you now," Psyclops' voice growls from the darkness, making me jump a bit; it'd literally sounded like it had come right over my shoulder.

"How close is he, Clank?"

"You will not be comforted with the answer," he answers plainly. "Just keep going. We are almost there."

Right as he reaches the end of the sentence I run around a bend, suddenly catching a faint light at the end of the hallway—wait, that meant—!

Go go go go go! Clank doesn't even have to give me instructions anymore and I run straight for the light, which is getting brighter. Yes!

"I'm not complaining for a moment, but why's this whole section down and the area in front of us isn't?" I ask, sprinting with my reserves guiding me.

"The Station's power output is divided into three separate sectors named Alpha, Beta, and Delta," Clank says. "On the bottommost level there are the three power rooms, from where each aforementioned area receives their energy feed. I am assuming this fellow Psyclops ransacked Beta's electrical system only."

That was right, I'd nearly forgotten. I've usually been only concerned with Beta's electrical room because of its tie to the security, but it was a relief Psyclops didn't get to the other ones. The dark was getting farther and farther behind me, and I start to ease up as more light opens in front of us.

The corridor opens into a foyer like hallway, and there's a trio of floor-to-floor lifts lined up, spaced several yards apart. "Far left?" I ask.

"Right. Er—left, correct."

Out the corner of my eye I can see the light of Psyclops' eye coming in view. Oh no, he wasn't going to catch me now! I make it to the lift in seconds, and the doors open automatically.

Then my foot catches the ground, sending me head over heels into the elevator. Everything topples once, twice, and I wheeze as my back finally hits the back wall. My head and shoulders are on the ground, and my lower half is curling overhead. "…ow."

For some reason Clank isn't complaining, then I realize he's not on my back anymore. For a split second I panic, worried that he'd fallen and I'd left him behind…

Then I catch him a foot away, picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off. "That was rather close. It is a good thing I anticipated you tripping and got off before I got pinned."

"Sorry 'bout that," I answer, righting myself. "I'll regain all my sveltely in time."

Psyclops suddenly swings into view in the corridor.

 _"BYE_ , Felicia!" I crow.

"No, you do NOT!" as he starts rampaging towards us, Clank jumps and punches the button to the third floor. Nah, the big guy wasn't going to make it; I sit up, waving goodbye to his snarling face as the doors shut.

The elevator starts lifting into the shaft. I sigh in relief, lying flat on my back for a moment to catch my breath. We lost him for a minute.

The entire lift abruptly rattles, then stalls a bit. It creaks and emits a loud groan, almost sounding pained. The lights flicker for a moment.

I lift my head, exchanging a cautious look with Clank, then sit up. Either it was me…or we were moving at a slower speed than when we'd started. My stomach is turning and dread is tearing at my insides. The floor's see-through. Slowly, Clank and I lower our eyes downwards. "Oh, no… _way_ ," I breathe, practically feeling the blood rushing from my face.

Psyclops is hanging onto either sides of the lift's bottom, leering up at us. "You thought you saw the last of me?" he roars, then tugs his weight down.

I stagger and Clank falls to his back at the force, and for a split second I'm terrified that Psyclops would be too heavy for the lift. Amazingly it still tries to fight the downwards pressure, though of course it's moving way slower than it should've been.

Clank stands to his feet, looking down nervously. "This is growing rather discouraging…"

"You said it nicer than I would've, pal."

Psyclops removes one hand, then surges his fist upwards into an uppercut to the bottom of the lift. The both of us flinch—the floor doesn't break but there's a massive spider web of splinters left from the blow; Clank and I start backing away from the spot, the unmistakable sound of fracturing glass starting to fill the air. The cracks start to branch off, growing and spreading along the floor. Psyclops pulls his fist back again.

"Ratchet, the emergency hatch!"

The hoo-what where? I quickly look up at the top of the golden dome ceiling, seeing a glass square framed in the center. That was what gets us out of this one. Thank you, nonstandard emergency protocols!

The next punch rocks the whole lift, and one of the lights flicker off completely. "What do we do to open it?" I ask, eyeing the dozens of cracks in the floor snaking towards us.

"It is usually opened from the outside, but given the scenario we may need to utilize force to—"

"—force? No problem!"

I jump and slam Alister's wrench up as hard as I can. Thankfully the glass isn't as thick as the floor covering, and it fragments from the hit. I assault it again. Part of the hatch shatters down. There's a slight opening in the frame, but it wasn't enough for me to get through quite yet.

"You, c'mere!" I grab Clank. "Children first!"

"I am _not_ a juvin—" he doesn't get any farther as I toss him in the air. He has to quickly tuck his arms and legs in to fit through, but he lands on the top of the elevator. He leans over, his eyes widened slightly as he looks down at me. "Ratchet!"

"Give me a moment, pal. Stand clear," There's thunderous crash right under my feet that almost scares me witless. I quickly backpedal from the wide web of cracked glass, bracing myself as Psyclops pulls his fist back again. I only have time to cover my face before the next blow comes, glass bursting up as his fist shoots upwards into the newly made gap.

I evade him and put my back to the wall as he reaches in as far as he can. His claws scrape at the floor, several inches from my boots. " _Almost there_ …" Psyclops hisses.

Wait a minute, screw this! I nearly keep forgetting that I'm armed. I thrust the praetorian wrench downwards, catching two of Psyclops' claws together in the wrench's mouth. I pause. It's hard for me to focus, to remember what I was supposed to do next—

 _"Hold!"_ Clank cries.

 _Got it._ "Nrgh!" the bolt runs through his hand and Psyclops retracts it, giving me the chance. Hoping the floor wouldn't give in under my weight I jump, striking upwards at the hatch again. The hole grows. It should be enough, I'm not _that_ much bigger than Clank.

I take a running start, managing to kick myself a foot up the wall then outstretch my arms. I hook one around the edge of the elevator's hatch, sticking the praetorian wrench up first before pulling myself up. I wince a bit as stray bits of glass cut into my face and arms, but I manage to get myself up on top of the lift with Clank. It was too soon to get relaxed though.

"No! You are mine!" Psyclops growls. I stick the wrench through the opening and with Clank's help, charge up a blast so powerful it makes my hands numb. Psyclops can't do anything but watch as I launch it down at him. He grunts in discomfort, getting his face fried for…the third time, tonight?

Then he finally lets go—Clank and I almost fall over as the hindered pressure from the elevator is released, and it starts ascending at its normal rate.

At the same time, Psyclops still isn't giving in. As soon as he let go he twists his body, two sharp clangs ringing out as he slams both clawed hands into the wall of the shaft. As the elevator moves up on its directed path we can see him hanging onto the side of the shaft, staring up at us.

Then he starts climbing, pulling one hand out and embedding it deep into the wall, moving up hand by hand.

"Wha— _THERE'S NO WAY_ ," I yelp. "This guy just doesn't quit!" We watch closely, trying to gauge if he could catch up. He'd clearly damaged the elevator and it was moving slower…and on the other end, he seems to be picking up steam with his climbing.

I quickly look up at the shaft, searching for the next floor. I think I see the opening, about thirty feet above. This would be a close one.

"Clank, we've got to try to get to the next stop while we're on top here," I say, my mind working to find a solution. "He's going to destroy the floor before we can get down, I just know it."

"I think I have an idea. I have not used this tactic in quite a while," he says, retracting his right arm. "I may or may not be a bit rusty."

The next time he extends his arm, there's a multi-coned laser resting where his hand normally was. Holy cow, it's been years but I wouldn't forget the upgrades the Zoni had given him. "That's your Geo-laser thingy, right?"

"Right. Let me see if I can aim up from here…"

We're about halfway up already, but a glance below shows Psyclops catching up. The elevator trembles as he takes a swipe, scraping the bottom of it. "Here," I say quickly, picking Clank up and holding him over my head. "Better?"

"Ah yes. Thank you," a flash of green erupts as a several inch-long beam fires from the tip of the laser, shooting upwards. The line starts cutting into the landing doors for the third floor and Clank moves his arm, starting to trace a path.

The lift shakes, Clank's laser wavering crookedly as I lose my balance. There's sweat on the back of my neck as we get closer. Come on, come on…almost there!

"…there," Clank says hurriedly, completing the circle he'd made and cutting his laser off. "That should do it," I swing him around to my backside to lock him on my harness, getting ready to jump when I could. Psyclops' hand comes up through the hole in the floor again. He keeps one hand anchored in the wall, using the other to hold the elevator stagnant.

"He is going to pull the elevator down the shaft," Clank predicts.

Then this would have to be it. This was as close as we were going to get. I retreat across the ceiling of the lift, then take a running start and put all the power I can muster in my legs, springing upwards. I hear the flare of exhaust pipes as Clank kindly uses his Thruster Pack to aid my jump, and we both soar upwards, the doors rapidly getting closer.

I cock my fist back, thrusting it into the circle in the landing doors and knocking out the weakened area. My hand catches the edge of the new hole, and I plant my feet against the side of the doors. Quickly I throw the double-ended wrench in first, then use both hands to pull myself up and squeeze through.

My blood freezes cold when I feel Clank get blocked by the door, his startled shout as he gets detached from my harness instantly choking me with fear. No—! He must've made the hole smaller than he thought!

As soon as I process this I try to twist in the opening but I'm more than halfway over the side and lose my balance, crashing to the floor. I'm to my feet a moment later, lurching out of the hole. "CLANK!"

"Right here!" He was on the top of the lift, waving his arms. Then he almost falls as it jerks underneath him. I can see a brief flash of his eye below, as Psyclops laughs.

"Thank you for your sacrifice," he hisses in delight. "Imagining the grief you will have when I destroy your robot before your eyes makes me _very_ elated."

My face twists in disgust, and I throw the top half of my body out. "Go suck it, you cheap excuse for a Holo-Film monster," I stretch an arm down as the lift still tries to come upwards to its destination, creaking up painfully slowly. "Clank, you've gotta jump!"

He can barely catch his balance, but he's got no more time left—Psyclops pulls again, harder this time, and doesn't let up. The lift screeches out in protest and finally gives in, its floor shattering completely and the ceiling buckling inward.

My body is straining and protesting as I stretch downward as far as I can. Clank takes two steps and jumps, using his Heli-pack to boost him up once, twice, a third time—

Our palms meet. My hand clenches tight around his.

 _There._ I've got him.

Warning lights turn the shaft red as Psyclops muscles the entire lift down, ripping it clear from its pathway. It falls, scraping against the shaft as it plummets downwards out of sight.

I'm careful to make sure I've got a solid grip before I muscle myself up and back. I don't feel safe until I pull us both through to solid ground. Clank looks like he's had enough of his share of close calls for the night, his eyes half lowered in exhaustion. "Thank you, Ratchet…"

"You don't have to say a word, pal," I say, half-panting from nerves and adrenaline. I hear a faint thunk of claws on steel, and rage instantly floods my entire body. I snatch up the praetorian wrench, moving to the opening and aiming straight downward. Psyclops is about ten feet down, in the middle of climbing up when he freezes.

"I may not be the best shot now, but I'm not going to miss that big ugly mug of yours," I snarl. "You half-brained mongoloid. I don't care what hostility you have for me, but you do NOT touch Clank. Now _tell me why you're here!_ "

"I thought I had made it quite distinct," Psyclops growls.

"Yeah, no doubt," I snap. "But usually, the people that try to kill us have a motive. Heard'a that? Motives like revenge, or flat-out hate, or of probable cause of us ruining whatever plan the villain of the week has. Want me to give you a few examples so you can be educated?"

He grunts, nodding. "Go ahead."

I partially lower my eyelids at him. He was smart enough to know when people were patronizing him, so he really did want to know.

"You're really curious, are you? Huh, well, there was Chairman Drek. He hated us because we were making him hit a corporate snag in the planet-busting business. He was the one who ended up getting busted in the end."

"A fool who succumbed to his own greed, it sounds like."

"Good boy, want a prize?" I cackle. "There was also Emperor Tachyon. He just hated anything and everything that looks like me. Can't ah, get more frank than that, honestly. Then there are just egomaniacal people like Dr. Nefarious that occur naturally in nature. There's no easy way to stopping crazy trains like those."

"I have heard of him," Psyclops says, digging his hand into the wall and pulling himself up more. "Truly an intellectual superior to myself, but unlike him, I hold my priorities in their rightful place."

"Really? So what would those priorities of yours entail? A new space station to rent out after killing everyone in it? Good, old-fashioned galactic domination? Or just to murder us out of spite because we're simply _breathing?_ C'mon. Tell me, I'm a big boy, I can handle it."

He doesn't answer. I grimace, feeling my patience starting to crack from talking to this guy. "All the times you flap that disfigured mouth'tha yours on murdering us, and you're closed lipped on the reason why?"

"I can say it is dissimilar to all of those scenarios you laid out, if you can believe that," Psyclops sneers. He reaches another hand up, piercing it into the side of the shaft. "All your previous foes were bested because they were fools. Because they underestimated the power you both possess, they saw their path to power waning."

He leans down then catapults up, clearing several feet in the jump and reattaching himself to the side of the shaft. He's about two yards from the landing doors. I don't move, every word of his explanation twisting my expression into a glare.

"I have come in, fully aware of my purpose and what opposes that purpose. _You_ are my opposition to justice, and that is all you can be aware of. Be grateful, little creature," his mouth makes a disfigured smile. "You will have the dying knowledge of being slain by one of the greatest militants ever to grace the vast macrocosms."

"What a charmer," Clank mutters.

"I know," I say, narrowing my eyes. "He'd put Ace Hardlight to shame."

"Does that sate your inquiries? If not, I am very sorry," Psyclops sneers. "I cannot enlighten you anymore."

"So it's a personal gig? Trying to get some points over your head by taking us and the people around us out?"

"Still far from the truth, I am afraid to say. You think it has focus around my own sense of hubris, like your past antagonists, but again, realize—I am in no way like them. I am sure I would be enthralled to tell you if you were to come down here with me…"

"Ahhh, nope. Y'know, you're actually more than what meets the eye. Pretty intelligent, though you could be using your brains for something else besides infiltrating our compound to murder us. It's a shame we have to be on opposite ends for a reason I don't even know."

Psyclops barks with laughter. "Oddly, I share similar views while interacting with you, little cat. Though if I were not here to murder you, I would add you to my collection of exotic creatures."

"That's…kind of weird," I say. Clank tugs on me, then taps his wrist. "Wha? Oh, right. Hey, gotta drop the casual chat for now. See ya!"

He growls up at me, looking like he wants to snap my neck as I withdraw from view. "What a disappointment," I say to Clank. "Why's it always the intelligent people that go ballistic with their twisted sense of justice? They don't have anything better to do with their brains than decide how things should work to their image?"

"I suppose not. The most dangerous type of person, if left properly uneducated…though interestingly, what a colorful fellow he is. It seems that you fall under his terms of being a rather appropriately sized house cat."

"Ohh _enough_ of that before I thump you!"

In the next second I'm hightailing it down the hall, making fast tracks to the cryostasis chamber. I faintly hear Psyclops breaking through the landing doors.

"You know what I don't get though?" I say, remembering something suddenly. "Where in the wide cosmos are those Galactic Rangers? They should've definitely been here by now! Yo, wait a minute!" I yelp. "You don't think…Psyclops had anything to do with them not arriving, do you?"

"That opens up another avenue of despairing possibilities," Clank hums. "But given the way events are playing out, that claim is not too far-fetched."

It suddenly seems that was _exactly_ what happened. I could see Psyclops making some way to incapacitate them, to prevent them from coming to our aid while he wreaked havoc here.

But he was about to get shut down completely.

* * *

I'm standing in front of two blue gilded doors stretching up to the ceiling. I've never seen the insides of the cryostasis chamber of course, but that was about to change pretty quickly. Clank split a while ago to take his position in the chamber's operating room, and I was just waiting for a certain someone to catch my trail again.

For once, Psyclops is taking his time. Did he get lost or something?

I turn around, looking down the hallway. A yawn comes up. Oh, come on. The guy kept me up for most of the night and _now_ he decides to be slow?

I go to look for him. I think he did get lost because several hallways down, I spot him peering into a room, looking pretty frustrated. Geez, how badly did I scramble his brain with that electricity? Did he get disoriented?

"Hey slughead!" I call. Psyclops whirls around, glaring at me. "Your face is so ugly, not even your _mother_ ever loved it!"

A light over my head practically gets nuked out of existence but I'd already ducked back, skedaddling on. My stomach is churning a bit in nervousness, and my grip on the double ended wrench is making slight sparks erupt from it. Getting close to the endgame here. It was time to see how well I could execute my part of the plan.

I make it back to the doors of the cryostaisis chamber and hit them thrice with the wrench, sending heavy ringing in the air. A signal to Clank.

The doors relent a moment later and open, a gust of heavy air flushing out over me as they do. The entire chamber is in near darkness, alit only by yard-spaced, small blue lights. I can gauge how big the chamber is, nearly the size of Talwyn's already large ship hangar. Heck, it was more than enough space than I'd need. I hear footsteps lurking behind me.

"You are trapped now, are you?"

"Nope," I say, turning around to face Psyclops. "Just in suspense."

Just how I expected he cuts to the chase and starts roaring down the hallway for me. I swiftly move backwards into the room and he follows me closely, crossing the threshold in. Now that we're both in here I immediately let out a whistle that's sharp enough to shatter glass, and it serves as signal two—the doors slowly creak close, but only halfway.

Psyclops halts for a moment, looking over his shoulder as some light disappears from the room. His eye seems to flicker in suspicion as he looks back at me. I exhale, tensed as I watch it. It was the best thing I could use to track him in the near darkness.

"What are you up to?" he asks. My response was to hold my left hand over my nose. Then I hit the ground twice with the wrench.

Soon there's a loud hissing all over, like a million bombs had just gotten their fuses lit. The temperature lowers slightly. I can't see them but there are dozens, at least a hundred, small heads on the ceiling, all of them spraying out a fine gas. Small amounts of it, but the levels coming out the taps would gradually increase the longer they were on.

All I needed to do was stay awake and avoid this big bastard. I smile inwardly as Psyclops looks up for an extended number of seconds, practically getting gassed right in the face. What he doesn't know is that cryosleep gas has the consistency of water vapor, so he probably thought he was getting hit with the fire alarms.

He lowers his gaze to me. "Whatever plan you have, abort it. It stands no chance against my own."

I've got a hand over my nose so I don't breathe in the gas, but decide to keep my mouth shut for now. I back away slowly. He seems to be getting cocky now, walking after me. The hissing begins to increase.

"You realize I have been leading you on this entire time, right?"

I stop. _What?_

"That little distraction from earlier, when you ran away initially? Did you really think I had fallen for something like that? I knew you were in that room, hiding. _Cowering_ ," he says, his eye flashing. One of the blue lights on the ground under my feet bursts, making me jump back.

"You went and did exactly what I thought you would do. You reunited with that robot of yours," Psyclops sneers. "I wanted you to do the same with the other two that reside here, but seeing as how you want to play things out now, I will seek them out myself later. Do you know what I will do with them? To the big moron I will send volts of electricity through his cranial antenna and remove all of his skin, then use it to make a gag for you. As for your mate..."

He lunges forward suddenly. This time I wasn't ready.

I can't focus without Clank there and panic, managing to retreat several steps before his hand catches around my body. He forces me down, slamming my back against the floor. Now he seems inclined to toy with me, placing the flat of his palm over my body and pushing down. The act makes me remove my hand from my nose, and I brace my left arm with both legs upwards, struggling to keep his hand up. To hell with him being able to crush me instantly if he wanted, I wasn't going down without a fight. Psyclops leans directly over me, his eye flashing excitedly.

"For her I will start by removing her eyes and her tongue. You can watch as she chokes over her own blood as I rip open her chest cavity and snap all of her ribs off, then remove all of her internal organs, one by one. Then I will make you eat her heart."

He glances around me, briefly pressing down a bit harder. "And when I find where that robot has snuck off to…hmph. I am not used to breaking small beings like the both of you. I will think of a way to improvise for him, as I did for you."

"…shut up," I say quietly.

"Ah, now where is that smug confidence from earlier?" he says, twisting his head in mock confusion. "Shameless, you are. You are very smart, but refuse to acknowledge the truth. You knew that you are incapable of rearing your head against me from the beginning…did you not?"

"Shut up!"

" _AND,_ " Psyclops says, raising his voice, "since you are so _useless,_ so utterly _incompetent_ you will get to see the people you care for die, and live with that knowledge until your own death."

"Until my own death, huh? All that talk about you disemboweling me and strangling me and all that? You seem to be a fan of talking and making threats, but not on backing them up."

He grins. "Huh-huh. That is an astute observation. I have indeed been violently torn on deciding when I want to kill you. I do know it will not be until you have the blood of your loved ones on your hands. And that, little one, is the sole prospect that has kept you alive from the moment we crossed paths to this very instant.

"I do not know what has happened to you in the past, but I could sense a very deep-rooted grief in you from the beginning," Psyclops gives an almost excited shudder. "When my duty here is complete, I can only imagine how much that rich, plentiful feeling of _anguish_ in you will soar…"

He was still talking. Why was he still talking? Wasn't the gas affecting him as much as we thought it would? I just need him to shut his mouth this instant, to stop his ridiculousness and empty words that mean…that mean nothing…

"Upset that your plan did not work…? See who is still standing over whom, once more," Psyclops says. "In the past the universe favored you, over and over again, and gave you the leeway to best your foes. This time it is clear that the infinite cosmos has finally tipped its favors to my side."

"Yeah?" I strain, feeling my arms shaking from the struggle of fighting him. "Where'd you get that idea, out of a fortune cookie?"

"So witty, so clever, and so very _damned,_ " Psyclops says calmly. "Hearing that mouth of yours in the meanwhile just may make me reconsider letting you live longer…"

No, I couldn't let myself be cornered like this! My brain is working frantically, telling me to use the wrench, _use the wrench_ or else I would lead everyone here to their deaths. I tremble. Horrible visions flash across my eyes, but they have no definite focus, no clear shape. I can only see too much, too much _red…_

My breath catches. The hand I have around the wrench seems hesitant to respond. I can't...I can't focus...

Work. Work, _work, please, WORK!_

"You are _my_ lapdog now. And now is when you will finally learn to lie down for me," Psyclops hisses. His eye seems to flare a bit brighter in excitement and I can see the end of everything I knew, burning out of existence in it. All at once my rage breaks like a dam and I let out a scream, shutting my eyes to just get that horrible, horrible future out of my mind.

 _"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?!"_

It's dark. I can't tell what happens next, and everything is a blur of color, a roaring rush of noise and pain. My hands are stinging suddenly, like I had stuck them onto a live wire, and my ears are buzzing. My side is hurting in a same way and I knew what it was like getting electrocuted, but how…?

I sit up, meeting the sight of Psyclops still hovering over me. But he has his hands clasped to his face and is hunched over, giving long wails of pain.

I stand up, moving away cautiously. A silhouette of something long was sticking out from between his hands, small bolts of electricity rippling off it. Alister's wrench. It was stuck, likely wedged between his steel faceplates.

I don't remember striking him at all but I had to have…an overwhelming tiredness starts creeping in, then I remember that I'm standing in the middle of a gas chamber. I slap a hand over my nose, already getting a bit unsteady on my feet. Crap, crap. I had to get out of here now, or else I'd fall asleep in here with him.

 _"Gnghhhrr!"_

Psyclops rips the praetorian wrench out. Several of his faceplates get dislodged from the force, flying and hitting the ground with metallic clangs. Psyclops hurls the wrench over his shoulder, furiously staggering towards me with part of his face ripped off. It's horrifying. I can see the robotic depth to his face, catch the shape of several wires poking out around the blurred red dot that was his eye.

"Your… _insolence_ incenses me," he hisses, lurching forward with some clear difficulty; it takes me a moment to realize what was happening, and my heart soars. He's starting to breathe a bit more heavily. Yes…yes! He was getting affected by the gas, finally!

I had theorized that this big guy was a cyborg, which thankfully turned out to be true. I guess his robot half helped him stay immune to the cryosleep longer than normal.

It was for that reason Clank has the gas running at a level that would constantly increase, and that was so _I_ wouldn't pass out too quickly. It also helped that Psyclops was closer to the ceiling, and while he was leaning over me earlier, getting _smug_ , he probably wasn't aware he shielded me from the gas a bit. That made the difference.

I need to keep my distance from him, also making sure that he can't follow me out the doors before they close. The idea was that he'd be too weak at that point to break them open.

But my feet are shuffling awkwardly over each other, and I'm not even walking in a straight line. Can I make it out in time? The door seems so, so far away. I felt so tired already…

"You…what is…what are you doing to me?" Psyclops grumbles, weakly swiping out at me as I pass, and missing. "Where…do you think you are going?!"

He grunts, and the ground shakes a bit from a force. I think he's fallen to the ground. I falter, tempted to do the same. The more I think about a bed, with a lot of comfortable pillows…

NO! Come on, go, go…I let out a groan, pulling energy from my last reserves. I could do this. I was going to do this. Yeah, that'll show him. He may have put me on my ass twice but this is the outcome that would matter the most.

"No! You will… _you will not escape from me!"_

It turns out he was pushing his limit too. I can only turn my profile, my eyes pinning when I see him lurching closer. His claws flash out the darkness.

My body seizes in mid-step when I feel them raking across my back, and I stumble clumsily with a gasp. One of my knees hits the floor and I slam my free hand to the ground, fighting to keep my balance. The desperate bastard _almost_ got me.

"Damn you and your refusal to stay down…" Psyclops says. I was lucky I'd caught myself before I'd hit the floor completely. I don't think I would've been able to get up if I had. My backside is stinging like crazy and I can feel each separate claw mark he'd made. He'd just skimmed me with three of the five on his hand.

But if anything…the pain helps me stay awake. I grin, dragging myself forward. Ha. He actually managed to help me for once.

"No, no…stop moving. _Stop moving_ , you stubborn freak of nature!" Psyclops bellows.

I almost want to laugh. He was calling me a freak of nature? Did he even own a mirror?

The door is coming closer, but it seems a mile away. No my mind was playing tricks on me, it was only ten feet. My head spins and everything seems really spaced out, like I'm having an out of body experience. The idea that I'm making progress doesn't even seem to make sense, almost feeling as though I'm crawling in place.

But I must be getting closer. The light is gradually, almost unnoticeably getting brighter. My hand falls on the handle of something. The praetorian wrench, from where he'd thrown it earlier. I clench my hand around it, dragging it along with me without breaking pace.

It's…getting harder to keep my head up. Any moment now it felt I was going to pass out, but…no. Don't think about that. Think about the others. The others, the others, the others…they're counting on me. I'm not useless…I'm _not_ useless…I had to protect, no matter the cost.

The light is growing brighter the closer I get to it, gently caressing my eyes. I wasn't going to stop now. I reach my hand out. Just a little…bit _more—!_

Like the sensation of remerging from a lake after nearly drowning, the bright light washes over me. I lower my hand, almost hyperventilating as I pull myself out the chamber. Oxygen flows into my lungs and flushes out some of the sleeping gas, and it's enough to give me that last push.

I pull the lower half of my body out from the doors, then manage to glance over my shoulder. I can see Psyclops is stopped where he'd made the lunge to strike me down, like a machine that's run out of energy. It doesn't look like he can move.

But he's looking right at me, his red eye unmoving and piercing my entire body with hate. He knew that I'd won over him, despite everything he had talked, had stood for. His acceptance was just what I needed to know, that he'd given in.

I sigh. _Finally._

I ball my fist, then pound it hard against the ground as I can three times. They're weak, but Clank hears me from the chamber's operation room. As I hear the doors shut behind me I collapse, falling forward and letting myself pass out.

* * *

Ahh. Now that felt like heaven.

There's softness all around me, like I was lying adrift in a cloud. Wait! Maybe I was in heaven. I didn't think inhaling so much gas would prove lethal, but that may've been the case.

Darn it! Well, I did say I'd be alright at my own expense as long as everyone else was safe. I only regretted not giving everyone a proper goodbye, but…things just happen like that.

I hear a rustling noise. Wait…huh? Wasn't I dead? I try to open my eyes, which feel a bit heavy. Everything is fuzzy for a moment. There's a pair of blurred green spots hovering nearby.

"Ratchet?"

It's Clank's voice, echoing like a bell chiming through deep water. I become aware of more sensations, like how my right arm was asleep because I'm lying on it, or how my body and head feel heavy, or the slight numbing on my back.

I lean up carefully, finding that I was lounged out sideways on a bed with a blanket over me. I couldn't recognize what room I was in, but it looks a bit different than a suite. "Ughh…ooh. Clank? Hey…did we get him?"

"Yes we did, Ratchet. He will not be strong enough to break out of that chamber."

"…good. Heh heh…" I lean back, suddenly feeling drowsy again. "Good."

"You know, I wasn't aware of all this excitement going on while I was asleep," comes Talwyn's voice. That's weird, it sounds like it's above my head. I try to get up, then something presses down on my back. The bed underneath me moves.

"Uh, what's going on?" I ask blearily. "Talwyn, am…I on top of you?"

"Yes and no. Don't you get any ideas about getting up, mister, you need to rest."

One of her arms suddenly snakes over mine, draping across my body. I think I was lying across her lap. Wait a minute, were we in her bedroom? Did I finally make it here, as an inadvertent reward to nearly getting murdered tonight?

I don't know, it's getting really hard to focus. I couldn't really even grasp the concept of how I'd even ended up _in_ here. Wait…what if I was dreaming? Cryosleep could really jack a person up with weird stuff like that. I wondered when I would grow wings and fly.

"Hey Tal, if this is you in my head, does this mean I could think something and you'd do it?" I ask.

Her hand pauses from where it'd been rubbing my head. "Uh…"

I laugh. "This is so weird…I wonder if I'll be able to remember where your bedroom is when I wake up. Can you let me up? I wanna trace a path from here to a place I recognize. Wait—what if I step out the room and enter a dark void? I hope I dreamed out reality past the doors. I hate dreams where you feel like you're falling…" my smile vanishes. "Falling is never good. It kinda feels that way to me now, actually…"

Clank looks over my head for some reason at Talwyn, looking slightly concerned. "Er, Rat—"

"You know what it's like to have a ton of things on your mind?" I ask suddenly. He looks surprised. I don't know why, since Dream Clank was a figment of my imagination and therefore a part of my mind, which means he should've understood where I was going with this.

But technicalities aside, I continue. "It feels like you're being pulled down, kind of like a bird that's gotten shot out of the sky and is at the mercy of gravity. And you keep falling lower, and lower, and _lower,_ not going anywhere beneficial. Just…down. Closer to a fate you see the whole way, but don't _ever_ want...or can change."

I sigh, then lay my head down. The covers feel freakishly real for this to be a dream, and I think I can feel myself getting drowsy. Was it even possible, to fall asleep in a dream? "That's kind of how I feel," I say, my voice partially muffled. "And then, what's worse…it feels like I'm screwing the people around me. If I fall…my entire flock will too. Because I couldn't…I _can't_ do my job the right way and keep them from danger…"

Talwyn seems to have gone completely still. Clank has an odd look, the one I'd see whenever he wanted me to stop talking because I was saying something thoughtless or insensitive. It's a bit weird to see it in a dream.

Well, I'd never say things like that in real life of course. Way too many complications there…

* * *

…uh, whoa. Did I suddenly conk out, or what?

When I open my eyes, things feel a bit clearer. I don't feel so delirious. A little sore maybe, but it's like I'd woken up after a normal night.

Normal. Pshh, as if. I look around. Uh, this was weird…I had the vague idea I'd been dreaming before I had woken up. This seems familiar. Was this really Talwyn's room? I'm by myself. Huh…I guess they had to drag my sorry behind here after that bout with Psyclops.

I lean my head back and rub my thumbs into the corners of my eyes, letting out a sigh. But geez, was that a bit rough. That chamber should be able to hold him. He was too weak to even follow me to the door.

I rub a hand along my back, feeling the tears in my suit. There's fur missing, but I don't feel any wounds. They must've slapped some Nanotech on me.

Where was everyone, anyway? And why was I feeling so lazy? It takes me almost five minutes to get out of bed, but that could've have something to do with how much of Talwyn I smelled on it. And I really hope that doesn't come off as being creepy.

As soon as I step out the room, I'm already lost. Clank's not here. I did have a little separation anxiety these days, and it's dying to make itself apparent after last night.

I just start walking, hoping that I get lucky enough to run into someone. Minutes later, I start hearing voices. They hadn't gone too far. I track them down the hall, coming to a door framed by a gold lining.

It doesn't occur to me how _many_ voices I'm hearing until I walk through the door, stretching, and find dozens of eyes on me.

Well, at least the whole mystery of the missing platoon of Galactic Rangers is solved, because there's at least two dozen of them, some seated around the long table in the room. Every single one of them has their attention on me.

I'm frozen with my arms in the air, probably making my deer-in-headlights expression. "Uhh…hi?"

"Oh, Ratchet! You are finally awake," Clank says. I don't see him—oh, there he was, standing near the end of the table, next to Talwyn, who's sitting. I walk in a bit more, my initial shock wearing off. "Um, I'm guessing that we finally got our backup?"

"Yes, indeed. They arrived not too long ago," Clank looks at the Ranger over his right shoulder. "H22, would you mind explaining what happened?"

"Right. Well you see Sarge, I think I speak for everyone when I say I understand your panic about us being so…tardy. We were never in any real danger, per say, but—"

"Some rookie pulled a completely brain-dead move and ended up piloting us through three asteroid fields, a wedding procession, and the drive through of a fast food restaurant!" another Ranger shouts. "In fact, I wish I had his serial tag to give you so you can put him on blast!"

Several of the other Rangers nudge each other, jeering in agreement. "Whoa, whoa easy, guys," I say, before I start seeing a witch burning. "Look, what matters is you guys are finally here. We really need your help more than ever. I don't know if you've heard, but we already had a visitor who did everything in his power to take us out."

I pause, taking a moment to skim across the room. There's someone missing. "Hey, where's Qwark? He needs to be here with us."

"He likes to sleep late, so I'm sure he's still in bed," Talwyn says.

"Alright. I'll go fetch him. He might not listen if someone else asks him to get up. Clank?" He jumps down from the table, following me to the door. "We'll be back in a few. Hang tight."

As soon as the doors close after us, I let out the yawn that had been fighting to come up the entire time I'd been in there. "Still tired?" Clank asks.

"Yep," I say, my tail curling up as I stretch my back. "Can't act tired when I'm in front of others, though. Remember Clank," I glance over my shoulder, lowering my voice, "act like everything's normal. We both know it's a lie, but we've got to keep everyone's morale boosted in case something _else_ extreme happens."

He nods, and I fold my arms behind my head. "It's a load off my mind, though. They may not have been here when they were expected, but I feel way more comforted with the Rangers here. We get the power and security fixed and the grid up, and we'll be golden."

"But we have to determine exactly how Psyclops got in. That is of clear importance," Clank says. "We cannot afford having another break in."

Another slight yawn escapes me. "And in the meanwhile, we need a clear headcount. Keep track of everyone who's here, for reference…"

Then I notice Clank tilting his head up, looking at me oddly. Then he faces forward again.

"Ratchet," he says, "I am sure you are aware, as I am, of what you are like when you are partially asleep and awake at the same time."

"Yeah, it's ugly," I say. "It's almost like I'm drunk, from what you've told me. Running my mouth and such? Did you remember something that I said awhile back? It wasn't anything…weird, that made you want to keep it a secret, was it?"

"Well, not weird," Clank gives me a slightly deadpan look. "And no, I would take no personal offense to whatever comes out of your mouth when you are not in your right mind."

"Like now?" I crack.

"Like several hours ago."

That wipes the grin off my face. I look down at Clank, my eyes slightly widened. "What? What do you mean, several hours ago? Didn't I just wake up for the first time?"

"You did not," Clank answers. "Earlier you thought you were within a dream, when you were not."

Oh, hell. I could barely remember the first time I'd woken up, or what embarrassing drivel I'd said. I only had the vague idea I'd been in Talwyn's room with Clank, and…

"…Clank, was Talwyn in there with us?" I ask slowly, feeling like I already knew the answer. He nods, "She has been…asking me questions," he says. "About what is bothering you, Ratchet. I have been denying that I know anything, but I believe she is starting to become aware that things are not as normal as we are fabricating them to be."

…damn and double damn.

"She doesn't know about…me?" I ask quietly.

"No. You were very vague, and for now she remains unaware of what the actual problem is. Problems, as you hinted."

I let out a groan, kicking at the ground. "Then that's just enough! She's as stubborn as I am, she's _gonna_ want to find out! And I'm not going to tell her! You see where this is goin'?"

"It could lead to complications, or it could not," Clank says with a shrug. "I do not know for sure. I think what matters is what she prioritizes—her current duty or discovering what is making your emotional state suffer."

"Well I know my priority," I grumble. "And I'm keeping it that way..."

In the meantime I'd just act like everything was fine, keep her none the wiser. And maybe, with me and Clank denying that there was something really wrong, she'd forget about it!

Well, not forget, but…put off, until this whole thing was past.

We traverse the second floor, marching down to the suite area. After Clank points out where our room is and I take note of the number so I can know where the hell I sleep at night, we head down the hallway to the door at the end. "Oi, Qwark!" I call as we walk up. "C'mon, c'mon, time to get up! We got some news to break to you. It's important."

I don't know if I was expecting him to answer me, but he doesn't. Clank chuckles a bit as I direct my eyes upwards. The doors to his room open automatically, and our shadows are cast in the dark room. I remember he doesn't have his nightlight, which is why we can't see far.

"Qwaaark. Wake up, will ya?" I step forward into the dark, and my foot catches on something. As I go down, Clank is standing a bit away, looking quizzical. "Hm…Captain Qwark? Are you in here?"

He raises his hands, then claps twice. The lights cut on immediately. For a second I blink, glaring around the room. It was a mess. I pick myself up, "Ahh, I thought I told him to clean this place up! Hey lardo! You—"

I stop suddenly, reprocessing things as I look around. There's stuff everywhere, sure, but oddly…it seems too messy. Even for Qwark.

Everything is strewn in any which way. I can see long marks on the walls everywhere, like something had raked its claws down it. Some of his possessions have similar marks on them. I look towards the back. The covers are half spilled on the ground. The bed's empty.

My mouth drops open and next to me, Clank is shaking his head slowly.

"I have a bad feeling about this…"


	4. A Thousand Yards

Back to back to back to back! When will the issues stop piling themselves in a massive trainwreck of trainwrecks? I can only take so much at once, universe!

"Okay, we can't panic," I say. "I'm sure he just ran to the kitchen to steal another water cooler. That's it! And, you know, decided to throw a party all by himself before he left! We just gotta find him on the cameras…which are still on the fritz, so forget I said that!"

I take Clank by the shoulders and shake him slightly. "That woman with a smile from hell is going to be expecting to hear from us soon, Clank, and we gotta runner on our side! I am _not_ going to risk going to jail if she finds out we lost Qwark. What do you think happened to him? Psyclops? I bet that's it! What if we find the big guy with all his skin ripped off and bleeding out like a—"

"Ratchet? It appears you are panicking."

Clank's back is almost touching the ground because I'm leaning so far over him. I raise up, taking in a deep breath that makes me sound like a beached whale. "My bad. Gotta calm down here...whew…"

"For future reference, remember to breathe periodically while you are talking," Clank advises, though I'm sure he was trying to be funny. "I suggest employing a search party to look for Qwark. It is fortuitous that the Rangers are here."

"Then let's get to moving!" I say, dancing on the spot. "We've got no time to waste!"

Clank has to quickly move to attach himself to my back as I take off. I sprint back through the halls as fast as I can, not breaking stride for a moment. It's times like these that I wished I'd remember to pack my hoverboots!

"I really hope we're overreacting about this and he really isn't in danger," I say, clearing a hall in four strides and winging around a corner.

"I would be solaced if this was another prank of his. Unamused. But solaced, nonetheless."

"If that's the case, great. But he'd catch it _good_ from me if he suddenly decided to play a game of trash-the-room-and-play-hide-and-seek several hours after a murderer roamed through this general part of the station."

"And at least you will not kill him."

"It'd look bad on my payroll. But first, before I start thinking about ways to kill him we gotta _find_ him," the door to the meeting room's just ahead, and I lunge through them. "Starting by telling the others that Qwark is—"

"That Captain Qwark is _what_ , Ratchet?" Lieutenant Metnic's voice asks coldly.

My head, facing Clank, automatically turns at her voice. In the brief second of crushing realization I hope that she hadn't seen the shock and guilt in my eyes before I looked around.

My feet screech to a halt in the room. What I hadn't noticed before was the screen built into the far wall from which a stern fat face was glaring at us. Well hell, I should've figured that a meeting room would have some type of communications device, but really? _Now_ she decides to call in on us? I'm telling you, the universe was up my ass lately!

"Sleeping," I answer, breaking the second of silence which'd passed, thankfully keeping my voice convincing. It'd be enough to fool Metnic; I'm positive Talwyn can tell I'm not being truthful because I can see her out the corner of my eye, looking at me with her brows furrowed a little.

Clank jumps off and I fold my shaking hands behind my back, managing a polite smile as I step forward. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Metnic. Calling in to check on things?"

"That I am, though it seems you're oddly…upbeat," she answers. I notice she's not giving that fake smile, which was enough to make my own a bit more genuine.

"It's a bit of a tough job to manage, but I think we're coming along just fine. Had a slight hiccup with the Rangers getting here, but everyone's accounted for. Except for ah, the aforementioned person who likes to sleep in."

"I see," she states flatly. "And I would like to speak with him in a moment's notice."

"This soon?" asks Clank. "I am not sure that would result in a favorable outcome, Lieutenant. Captain Qwark is not very negotiable if we interrupt his sleep. I believe the word 'man child' indicates what you would have to deal with."

My mouth twitches, and tears form at the corner of my eyes as I snort. Man, look at Clank slinging out the truths like a pro. To my surprise Metnic seems somewhat discouraged. Her mutant eyebrow forms into an expression that looks like a mixture between suspicion and confusion. "Very well. As of now I have little time to deal with…an attitude like that. If you insist that he will be more manageable later, that is what I expect when I call back in the future."

"Later today?" I ask, hoping we'd find Qwark before then. Metnic looks almost exasperated, sarcasm rolling off her words. "Yes, later today. When were you _hoping_ I would call?"

"Never again."

Talwyn stands up quickly. "Oh! Well, I think it's about time for us to start getting the troupe to work and assign jobs! We've actually got a long day ahead of us, after all!"

"Yes Miss Apogee, it nearly slips the mind how large your home is. One could nearly get lost there," Metnic says. "Make sure everyone is where they're supposed to be. And don't forget to assess the capability of the stockades in the case you need them."

She looks at me, likely seeing the smugness in my eyes, and gives me her trademark 'I hope you die in absolute agony' smile. It's a bit strained this time, though. "That is all for now. Be expecting to hear from me later. Metnic out."

The fat toad vanishes from the screen. I shut my eyes, feeling the entire room looking at me as I hold my breath. After I count off five seconds I reopen them then shoot a glance at the communications monitor. Talwyn looks slightly concerned. "Ratchet, what's the matter?"

"Is that screen off? No live connection?" I ask calmly, walking to the head of the table.

"It's off completely, yes."

My fisted hands slam down on the table, "Then we've got to haul butt to every corner of this galaxy if we have to, because _QWARK IS MISSING!_ " I explode, visibly startling everyone out their minds. " _At attention!_ "

Despite the turnaround of the situation all Rangers immediately focus on me, alert and awaiting orders. "Rangers, I need all of you to form several search parties, split up and scour every area of this Station!" I bark. "We've got to move quickly and with haste. If anyone spots anything suspicious or otherwise, radio us. Is that understood?"

" _Yes, sir!_ " comes the confirmation of dozens of voices. H22, the Ranger that was likely the assigned leader of this platoon, speaks to me. "As you wish, Sarge," he then turns, addressing those across the room. "Well, you heard him! Into teams, you scrubs! Run separate search parties through Alpha, Beta, and Delta! DON'T forget you all downloaded the map of the Apogee Space Station into your data banks before we left. If you did forget, I just reminded you. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Jackson, I see you looking confused! Pull it up and get to work!"

There's the scraping of chairs, feet on the ground and voices murmuring as the Rangers start compiling into order. Talwyn's expression is troubled as she swiftly moves over to us. "He's really gone? As in, right now?" she whispers urgently.

"Yeah, no lie," I say. "We walked in his room, saw the mess, didn't see him. We're not having that with what happened last night."

"Ratchet, I think it would be good for us to return to Qwark's room and see if we can find clues while the Rangers scout the other parts of the Station," says Clank.

"That sounds plausible," I say. "'Right, that's what we'll do, then. And later if need be we'll run a group through the entirety of the terrarium and the asteroid fields. Everywhere needs to be searched thoroughly."

"'scuse me, Sarge?"

A trio of Rangers approach us. Unlike most others of their kind these have dots underneath their serial tag. One has a blue, another white and the last a red. I look at the one with a red dot, recognizing his tag from the hangar on Marcadia. "T34? You were assigned to this troupe?"

"Yes sirree," he says, "and these are my cohorts, WD-1," he points at the Ranger with the white dot, "and E-3," he points to the blue dot. "I'm the lead technician here, working mainly on your ships such."

"I'm the medical expert assigned," says WD-1. "Heh, I can operate better on organics than I do robots. And, given the nature of this situation, Ms. Phyronix chose the right guy to represent!"

"I _humbly_ specialize more so in the technology department, pulling this one's weight," the blue dot E-3 says, nudging the technician. "Count on me to correct any mechanical issue, small or large."

This was good; I was glad they separated themselves from the main group because I suddenly know how to balance out all our problems a bit better. "Alright then. E-3 and T34? You guys go ahead and tackle the electrical system outage on the bottom floor. Get that security room and our defenses up and running, stat!"

"Yes, sir!"

They both salute, then break around me out the door. I'm sure I can hear them quarrelling about 'who touches the main power valve' as they move down the hallway. "And WD-1, I know you're the doctor, but how good are you at discerning areas of conflict?"

He rubs his fist against his chest, buffing it. "I'd say I'd be as good as any forensic when it comes to that."

I grin. "Then you're comin' with us."

* * *

"Hmm…"

I carefully move around the top of the bed canopy, eyeing the long tears in the fabric. They're clean rips, about an inch in width and up to two feet in length. "Got some up here, too."

On the ground the other three are doing their own investigation. WD-1 is on one side of the room, scanning along the walls, floor, and Qwark's belongings with the wave of light pouring from his eye. Talwyn is sifting through a ton of junk and unpacked luggage, trying to pave a path to the closet. Clank is standing in the middle, gazing around the room and probably taking mental notes, storing details and information for later. He looks up at me, puzzled. "Up there, as well? What a messy vandal Psyclops is."

"'Messy vandal'? Isn't that redunda—" one of my knees slips into a tear, which rips wider under my weight. I fall through the hole, bounce once off the bed, then land flat on my ass on one of Qwark's potted cactuses.

"OHHH, the sun is shining and I'm gonna feel it, baby…" I squeak. "Why. Why, oh _why_ does he have a _AH ha, ha!_ " I try to pull off but it's stuck tight to my pants. I was going to feel this tomorrow, the day after, and for the rest of my life for that matter.

"I was wondering the same thing," Clank scratches his tilted head. "I cannot see what Qwark would need a cactus for…it looks rather painful to toy with."

"Clank," I pant, wincing as I jerk my lower body free. "Don't…don't even worry about it, man…" a bit of ginger feeling shows me none of the needles got stuck, but would I be walking like a penguin for a minute. I groan, treading awkwardly to join Clank. "This blows. This place is a bigger deathtrap than any death course I've ever been in!"

WD-1 glances over his shoulder. "Do you need some medical attention? I'll be gentle."

"Yeah…wait, no, no!" I say quickly. "Nothing's broken or bleeding, so no need!"

WD-1 chuckles, shrugging. "That walk of yours is telling me otherwise but suit yourself, Sarge. Now here's something you need to hear from what I've seen so far. I'm not picking up any signs of residual matter, like blood or skin tissue, you know," he leans up, faces us and switches his scanner off. "No physical signs of struggle. Even did a run on some of the things with those shred marks. Nada."

"Could your scanners pick up metal deposits, by any chance?" Clank asks. "Our suspect has claws of the same material grafted onto his hands."

"Ah, and there's the issue—I can, but I haven't," WD-1 says. "If this bastard really came in here and clawed up Qwark and his room, he covered his tracks pretty well somehow. I've got every scanner under Solana's sun. Organic, metallic, elemental, heat, light frequency, RADIATION, for Pete's sake—but I haven't picked up a speck of a clue."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. "What? How could he have been that delicate?"

"Noooo clue," WD-1 says, switching his scanner on and sweeping his eye back and forth. "And from what we were debriefed by Clank earlier, this guy's big enough to land a star cruiser on his back. What I don't see is how he managed to get through that room door without some type of slippage. No prints left on the frame, no outward damage…he must've snuck in with the grace of a ballerina."

"Hmph. Had to," I say grimly. "I should've remembered, I saw firsthand how sneaky he can be when he tries. Can't believe he's still screwing us with his attention to detail, all without even being here…hey Tal? Need some help?"

She doesn't answer. I turn around, seeing the closet door now open and light spilling into the room. Her shadow is lying still on the ground. "Tal?" I call, still getting no response. Exchanging a cautious glance with Clank and WD-1, I start picking my way over. My stomach is starting to flip a bit, growing nervous.

"Talwyn? Hey…"

I move far enough into the frame to see her. Her back is to me and her head is focused upwards, looking at something out of view. I step in next to her, looking up slowly.

There's a huge, huge gaping hole in the back corner of the closet, exposing the inner workings of the wall. Metal is twisted inwards, like something had forced itself through from our side and tunneled in farther. It's too dark to see beyond several feet, but I can tell the path goes farther. "What DID that?" Talwyn breathes, sounding disturbed.

"Not Qwark…that's for sure," I say, getting more of a bad gut feeling the longer I stared at the hole. It brought back flashes of earlier moments with Psyclops, the first time he'd even said hi to me. Clank comes up, recoiling when he sees the cavern. "Oh, my…"

 _"Hoooo-ly_ wow," WD-1 says, sounding shocked as he comes in over our shoulders. "How's that for an area of conflict?"

He steps forward ahead of us, holding his right arm out. Instead of a gun, it seems he has a multi-purpose tool grafted to it. A beam of light shoots out the tip of his finger, illuminating the insides of the tunnel. We can see where different layers of steel were pulled back, almost looking like they were melted through into a huge shaft that extends farther past the light.

It's a passageway. I step forward. "You guys armed?"

"After last night, I am for sure," says Talwyn. I hear Clank's radiator core shutting, then look down and see him holding my Omniwrench. Kept it in storage, just like I'd asked him. "Thanks, pal."

"I can play my part by being a shield for ya, Sarge, since I need to light the way," WD-1 laughs, pulling himself up into the entrance.

"Hopefully it won't come to that, WD…" I wince as I climb in, gingerly moving the sore half of myself up. "And hopefully, no one else gets hurt from completely avoidable mishaps…"

Slowly and cautiously we form a tight band, walking forward carefully. There's no sense of ground underneath us, the only support being varying levels of steel and pipes. Some electrical wires are sticking out haphazardly overhead, and some of them look fused into the outer part of the tunnelway.

The passage seems to get smaller as it goes on, and we were already elbow-to elbow. When we can no longer fit beside each other I end up in the front with Talwyn at my rear, and WD-1 raising his beam of light over our heads.

"I think," Talwyn whispers, over the sound of the humming in the walls, "that this cuts through the walls towards a broom closet down the hallway. I can't remember for sure…"

"That is correct," Clank says, turning his head to look over my shoulder. "If I recall, that particular closet suffers from a power shortage. I had been trying to run a stock check on supplies yesterday, and could not even open the door."

I narrow my eyes, suspicious. My grip tightens on my wrench, and I strain my eyes to see as far ahead as possible. I don't know what to expect but if this was one of Psyclops' traps he left for us…

Not too much later the beam of light seems to dilute a bit, and I can see a glimpse of another rough outline. There was the other end. We slow a bit, cautious, and I prepare myself for anything to pop up at any moment. The entrance comes undeterred to me and I hop down, the others following.

The closet light sputters weakly as it tries and fails to come on. WD-1 silently pans his beam over the room, over boxes and things covered with sheets. It smells old and dusty and I can tell it hasn't been opened in some time. I move forward, looking around carefully.

 _"…mpppfh…"_

My ears shoot up like divining rods. "Did anyone else hear that?"

Out the corner of my eye, Talwyn shakes her head, and I can feel Clank doing likewise on my back. "Where'd it come from, the direction?" WD-1 asks. I tilt my head at a half-angle to the right. "Over there…let's see if we can get behind those boxes." He briefly lowers his beam, helping me push aside a storage crate. I jump when I hear something else.

 _"Mpphfm! Mmpfh!"_

"There it is, again," I say at a muted shout. "WD, right there!"

He raises his beam. Oh please, don't tell me I was hearing things again.

Then they'd start suspecting I was crazy, that I wasn't dependable, not that they'd be bringing up false suspicions of course—

At the same time, all of us do an intake of breath, flinching back. There's something flopping around partially in sight. I catch a flash of green, then immediately bound onto a covered box, leaning over. Qwark's there, a bandanna covering his eyes and duct tape over his mouth. His arms and legs are tied up, but it doesn't look like he's hurt. Oh my word, we found him alive.

"Oh, thank goodness you are safe, Captain Qwark," Clank says, dropping down alongside me. Qwark blindly raises his head up in our direction, the duct tape on his mouth sucking in and out as he starts breathing quicker. "Hold on big guy," I say, cracking my knuckles before I get started on these knots.

"Rmmhtt, rrnkk!" (1) Qwark says. Or tries to say. "Mohh mnn hem eh ah oo ee oo!"(2)

WD-1 holds his beam at a downwards angle, helping me see better. "Hah? What's that you say?" I ask, managing to undo a knot. "I didn't learn that language when I was in school."

Qwark makes several muffled cries, his entire body shaking. I'm pretty sure he was starting to sob. Clank pulls the bandanna from around his face and I find out that I was right. His eyes cut between us both, wide. "Unnh ehett mm mfph?" (3)

He starts to pull a bit, likely more out of fear than to purposely mess me up. "Mm nnt ake ths nnimoh! Ehht mm ouyuah hmmrrrrrr!" (4-5)

"Whoa whoa whoa, easy!" I say, catching ahold of my grip. Talwyn gets down next to me, untying his legs. Weirdly enough, he was bound with what looked like power cables instead of rope. Not that I'm complaining, though. They were thicker and made less difficult knots to untie. Soon we've got his limbs free, and Clank finishes by ripping the duct tape off his mouth. I'm almost positive he purposely waited to take it off so Qwark wouldn't be wailing in our ears while we worked.

"So who—" I begin. Qwark grabs me and pulls me tight into a hug. " _Raaatcheeeet!"_ he wails, shaking me. " _Claaank!_ Talwyn….!"

He pauses and looks at WD-1, who waves. Then he starts bawling again. "And YOU! All of you saved me! It was so awful back here being in the dark, a-and alone! With only my thoughts to give me company!" he gasps. "I had several life-reflective epiphanies while I was tied up, and I realized—I'm a martyr to my own _existence!_ Oh, the unfairness of it ALL!"

"First Qwark, I need you to loosen up a bit," I strain, and he does. I'd had my fill of being squeezed like a ragdoll lately. "Now…can you tell me who did this to you?"

"Would you believe me if I said I couldn't?" he says sullenly, setting me down on the floor. "It was so dark I couldn't even tell what was _happening_. I just woke up to someone pulling me out of my bed and blindly felt myself being dragged off!"

He gives a disgusted wave of his hand. "The nerve of some people! All I can tell you is that I'm glad my spandex held together for the most part because it felt like I was getting run over rows of spikes. I think I may have ripped a bit down there, let me see..."

I flinch, raising my hands over my face, "AHH NOPE, save that for later!" Thankfully he stops. I don't think I have the brain bleach to recover from that.

"No idea on who dragged you out here, huh?" Talwyn asks. "Well, Qwark, from our perspective it's of no surprise."

"Precisely," says Clank. "We had a little incident last night."

I cackle. _"...little?"_

Clank gives me a deadpan glance. "That is a massive understatement, yes. There goes my attempt to create a calming mechanism for Qwark. I am sure breaking the news that a massive behemoth kidnapped him in the dead of night may be a bit harder to take."

"WHAT?" he cries, leaping up. "What type of program are you guys running here?! Talwyn, what's all that I've been hearing on those groundbreaking defenses of yours? Clearly they were groundbreaking in the fact that they _were_ broken!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Hey, we're still trying to figure things out for ourselves! And I'm almost as clueless as you are! It's Ratchet and Clank you'll have to ask for details."

"It's actually fairly simple," I drawl. "Someone wanted to kill us last night. Not much of a deviation from what we're used to, is it?"

"But still, I expect to be protected and you tell me this?" Qwark says, shrinking slightly. "I'm not going to feel safe going to the john at night now…"

"Or whenever you steal water coolers from Tal's kitchen."

"When you _what?_ " she asks sharply. Qwark tries to look innocent, holding his hands up. "Nothing, it's nothing…anyway, it looks like Clank wants to say something!"

"Ratchet and I were chased last night by this character who seemed intent to dispose of us," Clank says. I add, "Any way he saw it, he'd either let us lead him to you both or find you guys on his own time. He did lose our tail for a while," I flash my brows at Qwark. "It's easy to see what he was up to when he wasn't chasing us."

Qwark makes himself even smaller. "And along with my ripped briefs, that makes me feel _really_ violated."

"It is very lucky he did not kill you when you were at his mercy," Clank says. "Be quite thankful, Qwark. He was a very unpleasant person."

I scoff to myself, lowering my voice. "Why he didn't kill him? I'm sure it's because he wanted to save Qwark and Talwyn so he could torture them later in front of my eyes."

That must've come out a bit louder than I expected. Not to mention we were pretty close, so it was a bad call in general. Qwark inhales, his eyes widening so spontaneously I was sure they were going to pop off his face.

"So he could _what?!"_ Talwyn asks from behind me. Wow, that was real smooth, Ratchet.

I shrug. "Uh, never mind the details. See, the important part here is that everyone's accounted for. It's all good," my left eye and right ear twitches. "So how does heading back and regrouping sound?"

"Already radioed, just got done sending everyone the all-clear," WD-1 calls from the other side of the closet. "We ready to get this convoy on?"

"Please!" Qwark cries. "I can't stand broom closets now! I feel like that'll fit in as a joke somewhere…"

WD-1 stands by the entrance of the wall, lighting the way out. As soon as I take step forward there's a heavy weight on my shoulders. No longer figurative, mind you. "Yeah, Qwark?"

"Uhh, no offense to anyone else here, but I feel safer with Ratchet," he says nervously. He's hunching over me, keeping his hands on my shoulders, and is matching each of my steps as I walk. Eh, alright. As long as he didn't trip me.

It does look like that whole endeavor shook him up, because he's more spooked than normal. Especially when we go down the metal cave and there's all sorts of noises. Every jump he makes I can tell he's barely stopping himself from piggybacking on my shoulders. Not only would that _severely_ tick me off, but I don't have time to be nursing my back. Along with my rear, which is still hurting like hell.

"Qwark! Wearin' me _out,_ man," I say, when he jumps a foot and practically takes me with him. "Pick me up if you have to!"

"Then I will surely—"

"There's the end of the tunnel," WD-1 says.

"—not do that, but thanks for the offer Ratchet!" He shoves me to the side, pushing past the others to run ahead. "Yes! No more of that dark closet business for me!"

Clank chuckles. "I suspect he will want a different room, Miss Apogee."

"Nope, too bad for that!" she says evilly. "We've already solved the problem and have his kidnapper on lockdown. He'll be just fine with a gaping cave in his room."

We step out into the room to find him hiding under his torn bed covers. He raises a hand up, pointing at the door. "Uhhh, could you guys, like…do whatever you need to do? Without me?" he squeaks.

I go over and rip the covers off him, showing him in fetal position. "We've got a lot to discuss with you in the first place, Qwark."

"Then radio me! I have a portable antennae I could hook up to some…" he looks around, then quickly reaches over and pulls a beat up radio into view, "some of this _technology_ in here, and wire it into a communication device! Hey Ranger, that's how that works, right?"

"Hah?" WD-1 glances around, then points to himself. "Sorry Captain, I'm only good for slicing people open. You'd have to ask my colleagues 'bout stuff on tech."

"Then can we have a roundtable here?"

"No, because that means I'd have to repeat information twice and that's not necessary," I tell him. "And in the case of an emergency, we're going to have to hold meetings like this. Now get up Qwark, we need to get down to business for today!"

"Okaay," he wails, jumping out of bed. As I expect he attaches himself to me when I turn around. I massage my hands to my temples, feeling a headache coming on. Whatever it'd take for him to follow me.

* * *

We've got everyone here.

Finally, I can stand at the front of the table and count every single head, every single person that's supposed to be here.

I get down to business and start off by explaining everything top to bottom, about last night. I can't explain why or how Psyclops had arrived. I can only make it apparent how dangerous he is. Not that I had to make _that_ too obvious; as I recall our encounters with him, his brutish nature, twisted ideologies, and how desperate he was to erase us kind of loses any subtext.

I don't think Clank went into detail earlier when he gave them a run down because by the time I finish, everyone's silent, clearly startled. Qwark's hiding behind Talwyn, who seems too stunned to notice or care.

I'm already feeling like I'm lagging by the time I assess Qwark's situation. His brief disappearance had been marginally less dire than Psyclops' break in, but was yet another clear example of the rough waters we'd been through already. The tone's set deep into everyone's minds. Since the platoon had just gotten here and we were settled for the most part, I pass a brief intermission. Before the real work started I needed to bring everyone's nerves down.

Including my own. The Rangers begin murmuring among themselves as I leave the table, barely noticing where I'm going. I sit down, hoping to ease the spinning in my head. "That is way more than I initially thought…" Talwyn murmurs. Clank splays his hands out in a gesture of agreement, then starts wringing them again.

"I apologize in advance for the amount of damage that has accrued overnight. A curious question. How much, roughly do each of those floor-to-floor lifts cost?"

"Hmm...I'd have to sell an arm and a leg. Maybe all four of my limbs. Oh, and my heart too."

I give a slight, imperceptible twitch.

"That is terrible!" Clank says, shocked. "Will the sale of your organs even ensure you can pay for the damages?"

Talwyn runs a hand through her hair, giving him a slight smile. "You silly goose, I'm not really going to do that…everything that's been damaged can be covered with time. Besides, there's so much space here a few dings and bumps won't matter."

Qwark rises up from underneath the table, peering out from over the edge. "Unless you're a guest, like me! Talwyn, I don't know about you but I'd rather not have a closet cave!"

"It's not there if you don't think about it."

"Don't try mind games with me. They won't work! What if something else comes crawling in through that hole and grabs me again?"

"That tunnel leads to a dead-end. We already cleared it on the way there and back. And I can't believe you didn't wake up to him trashing your closet in the first place!" Talwyn says. "Maybe this'll encourage you to be a bit of lighter sleeper, so you can detect danger sooner."

"I second that notion," I mutter, wincing slightly as my insides clench a bit. "Gonna go lie down for a moment…" It's hard to not make it seem like I'm collapsing in on myself, but I muscle out the door. I go and find a living…sorry, a lounging room, and drag myself in. It's not a fainting couch but it may as well be one, by the way I collapse on it.

I don't understand what's happening. I had felt fine awhile ago but now I was getting bad flashbacks to the times where I'd caught a bug. My stomach rumbles a bit and I groan, rolling to my side and hugging my arms to my body.

Did I catch something overnight? Maybe Psyclops had something in the tips of his claws and he infected me with it. I exhale, feeling my heart throttling the side of my chest with how hard and fast it was beating. The sensation is unnerving.

And it's starting to make me nervous for reasons I can't explain. Maybe my body was trying to tell me something. By getting chills and acting like I'd run a marathon from the scariest thing imaginable? That didn't add up. It feels like I'm moments from freaking out in a huge explosion of panic.

My nerves have calmed by the time several minutes pass and I stop being so fidgety. I roll onto my back and close my eyes, breathing out through my clenched teeth. Every breath is slower, more rhythmic. At least I've stopped panting, but now I feel exhausted. When I'm sure I can I lean up, rubbing my head.

I feel a bit hot under the collar now. If I could I'd take off my clothes, but I was totally wearing one of my full body suits. I groan, throwing myself flat on my back again. That'll take energy I barely have.

I glance over when the door opens, seeing Talwyn walk in. "Hey! It's like you read my mind."

My heart starts to race again for a different reason"…ungh?"

"You don't look so good all of a sudden," she comes and kneels down, feeling the base of my right ear. "…you feel a bit warm, Ratchet."

"There's no telling why I'm feeling like this all of a sudden," I mutter, tugging at my collar. "I'm seriously considering taking my clothes off..."

"That's too bad. I like it when you wear clothes that hug your body."

"Yeah, but…wait. Aren't…most of my outfits tight?"

She caresses under my chin. "You're precious when you're confused. Do you think breakfast will help? I know it's been awhile since you had my pancakes."

"It has been too long," I say dazedly, suddenly realizing how hungry I am. In fact, some of my other base needs require my attention right about now.

"Hey, Talwyn, you said you'd wait for us!" Qwark gripes, standing at the door with Clank. Then he squints, looking between me lying on the couch and Talwyn kneeling next to it. "Wait, hold on a minute…"

"Don't even go there!" I say.

He gives a casual grin, shrugging. "What? I was going to say that something's about to start cooking in here. And it's bacon and eggs."

I squint at him. "Hmm. Make sure you stay with Clank and Talwyn. No wandering off," I get up, starting towards the door. Qwark follows me.

"Wait! I need to be in the same room with you! At best I could use Talwyn as a shield and Clank as a projectile distraction!"

Clank actually chuckles. Talwyn raises her arms, dropping them to her side as she walks to the kitchen. "I appreciate your faith in me, Qwark."

"You can't come with me," I say.

"What if something happens when you're gone? Why can't I come?" Qwark cries. I stop, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Qwark," I say as I face him, my mouth curling into a strained smile, "I'm _trying_ to go take a leak. What do you think it'll look like if you go into the bathroom with me?"

"You'll look like a man dedicated to his job."

"Stay here or else I'll hogtie you and throw you into another closet."

"Yes sir."

He sulks off and I leave. I needed to do a check on how the security was coming along sometime later. Maybe when Qwark knew we had it back up and people monitoring it at all times, he'd stop trying to get on my ass. A fact that almost became literal.

After I'm done washing my hands in the bathroom I stick my head under the faucet for a moment, letting water trickle through my fur. That felt really good. I think my headache may have been from me being tired, or not eating. Maybe I'd start thinking a bit straighter after breakfast. And Talwyn's pancakes. I might start literally crying because they're just that good.

When I come back the first thing I smell is something burning. The culprit is Qwark, who's bent over with thick tendrils of smoke billowing out from around him. I'm sure Clank is trying to help salvage the situation, but it's hard to tell since I can only see his half-lowered eyes glowing through the dark cloud. Meanwhile Talwyn is on the other end at her own stove.

I slip over quietly, fitting my side against hers. She jumps a little. "Oh! Hey, you know the rule—no watching a magician work her stuff!"

"I'm looking at you. The pan's not the beautiful one here."

She pushes up her lips, tightening them. I lean over. "Is that a blush I see, Tal?"

"Don't worry, I'll return the favor to you in due time. You're not that jaded. I'll find some way to make your face red," she glances over to the side, frowning. "Meanwhile, why don't you go check on Qwark and see how he's doing? It doesn't look like Clank can handle him by himself. And if he sets another one of my pans on fire..."

"Aw, but I'd rather stay checking on _you._ "

We suddenly hear Clank give an exclamation and look over to see him pulling a fire extinguisher out on a pan. Qwark is deflated, like someone had just murdered his image on public radio.

Talwyn looks like she wants nothing more than to give the big guy an open palm slap to the face. I inch away. "Right, I uh...I'm gonna go do some damage control."

I zip out the danger zone like lightning. Qwark spawns another pan and gives a large sigh. "I've lost my touch," he whines, not even looking as he takes several eggs from the carton next to him; I dart around him quickly and catch the entire thing before it falls, setting it back.

"Maybe…you should let Clank or myself make 'em?" I flinch when he just smashes the egg in the pan.

"No! I need to regain my natural talent of cooking up masterpieces!" He swipes another egg and dramatically slams it down like the first. "I must be all discombobulated from being treated as a damsel in distress! Alone and in the dark, no less!"

"Set the dial to four," Clank instructs. Qwark gives the dial a careless flick, setting it to nine. I like catching moments in time where things could potentially go downhill. When he turns away to rummage in the drawer for something, I lean over quietly and set the dial to the right spot.

"I suppose I should really thank you guys again," he sighs, dropping some bacon in a pan and putting it on another burner. "Who knows how long I would've been in there? Or when that thing that took me would've come back!"

"Yeah, it's better than having your skin ripped off and electrocuted…" I mutter.

Qwark's head shoots down, his eyes wide. "Wait _what?_ "

"I…said that it's a relief you're safe because Psyclops is convoluted…"

Qwark sighs, setting the heat on the bacon. "You don't have to remind me of _that_ fact. And I mean, how am I supposed to help you guys protect me if I'm locked up in a broom closet?"

"While you're out of the closet, you could start by making sure all of our food's safe to eat," I point out. The eggs could be saved, but with only a certain amount of dexterity. Which Qwark clearly doesn't have, since he starts running a spatula through them like he's cutting pizza into slices.

Clank's cringe seems perpetual as he watches Qwark. "Are those supposed to be scrambled?"

"No. Sunny side up," the bacon pan catches fire. "And we're out of bacon…"

Clank wields the fire extinguisher again, and I groan. I think I need to get ready to have food poisoning.

Moments later Qwark freezes. His head jerks up and his eyes dart around when he hears a noise that's clearly not coming from the eggs in the pan. I'm mid-yawn when he grabs a hold of me. "I guess I'm your go-to person to latch onto when you detect danger, huh?"

"Did you hear that noise? What if it's that big guy you were telling me about?" he cries. "Ratchet, I'll stop spamming your inbox with all those Q-Force merchandise offers if you tell him to take someone else this time!"

"Wait just a minute, you were the one sending me all that?" I ask. "I can't believe you! I sent that IP to spam a million times and mail would still sneak into my inbox! And stop freaking out, it's not Psyclops. That was my _stomach_ growling."

"Well take that somewhere else! If you were being persecuted like me you wouldn't take things like that lightly," he drops me, searching around the area. "Now where's the baking soda?"

"Alright, that's it! Move over, I'm cookin' now! I'm not a gourmet like Clank but at least I can make things that are edible. Gimmie that spatula!"

"Hey, hey, hey, settle down in the peanut gallery!" he says, pushing me away from the stove. He gives a flip of the spatula, driving it into the pan. "Talwyn, your boyfriend's getting hangry over here!"

"…what?" I ask, baffled. " _Hangry?"_ Clank starts giggling, doubling over when he sees my expression. "Yes, hangry," Qwark says, prodding me with the end of the spatula. "You've already been agitated most of the time you've been here, and now it's even worse because you haven't gotten your calories!"

"I'm sorry. I spent the entire night running from a giant, ugly patchwork monster, and did not anticipate that," I state plainly. "Kinda drains the body, y'know?"

"It wouldn't be so draining if you hadn't put on weight over the summer! Now's a good a time as ever to start listening to my fitness tips, eh?"

"Oh-hooo fitness tips? One of 'em almost got me disemboweled," I cackle. "Heh, funny story, actually…"

"Don't worry, he'll get better when he has some pancakes," Talwyn calls, flipping one up in the pan.

I'm less than amused with Qwark in charge of half of what was going to be traveling through my digestive track, but thankfully Clank manages to distract me from the notion of food poisoning by bringing up an interesting suggestion. We move down a bit on the counter, out of earshot of Talwyn and Qwark.

"I have noticed something. You appear to be quite comfortable with the praetorian wrench when it comes to exercising your capabilities. What if we used that as a conversion?"

"To what, using weapons? You're right…the concept of applying pressure seems easier with it," I say. "I'm not really sure why, but maybe that's just my mind being selective again…"

"Then let us roll with that," says Clank, and he makes an L with his fingers and pops it like a gun. "Eventually if we train your subconscious with what it is willing to resonate with, you can build up the aptitude you have lost. That said…relearning to use weapons will require more practice. Much more."

"How long that'll take, though, concerns me. If there's a time where I really needed, and couldn't help—?"

"Do not think like that, Ratchet," Clank tells me. "You have already demonstrated the ability to be vigilant despite your shortcomings, even if you yourself feel otherwise."

I manage to smile a bit, but on the inside I still feel a flicker of doubt. Or fear. I…don't know. I'm not sure if I can believe in myself as much as he does just yet.

Then Clank hits me on my shoulder slightly, snapping me back. I look down at him, and he's gazing at me intently.

"You have done well, Ratchet," he says quietly. "It is all I can ask for you to not be hard on yourself."

"…Clank, I don't know," I utter. "I-I'll try not to be. But I need to focus. If I don't…if I slip, just even once…"

Memories and sensations flash through my head in a split second, making my breath stagger slightly. They're raw, combined sensations of fear, pain, of _guilt._ I can't bear too much of more of it.

"All of you, in this room now…" I say, quietly. "You're my family. The only ones I have left. And I don't want to be too weak to stop anything from happening to any of you. I just…I _just_ , don't want to lose anyone else.

"Not…again. Not again…" I blink several moments later, losing the thousand yard stare that I didn't even realize I'd gotten.

"Ratchet," Clank says, sounding like he'd just realized something. I turn my head away, avoiding his questioning stare. "…has this been on your mind for longer than it seems?" he asks.

I don't say anything for a moment. Then, "I think you already know that."

Clank lowers his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. When he speaks his voice is unnaturally quiet. "...oh dear. I should have seen it sooner."

"It's nothing you should feel guilty about, Clank," I mutter. "After all…it's not like I made it that obvious. You know how I am…"

"I wish you could have said something. Does this really mean that this entire time, even over the summer on Veldin, you have been still hurting?"

"...yes."

Clank raises up, his expression stern. "You should not do things like this to yourself, Ratchet," he says a bit sharply. It's more than enough to make my head and my ears hang. There's nothing more depressing than having Clank upset with me.

"I'm sorry," I say.

His eyes soften. "I do not like to see you sad, Ratchet. It makes me feel the same way."

That doesn't do anything to help the lump in my throat. "Don't...don't think I don't trust you enough to talk to you. It's not that. It's me. It was just hard to...think about what'd happened with the twins, and I tried to suppress those memories. But they kept pestering me, coming back again and again..." I quickly jerk my head side to side, shaking it. "…I know Clank, I should've said something sooner. Now look. The things Psyclops told me when we were in the chamber, they triggered the same emotions, the same _feelings._ It made me _furious_. But I had still felt more pain than anger."

"Do you think you are ready to talk about it now?" Clank asks.

"No...I'm not quite there yet. But when I am, you'll, you'll be the first to hear it, pal."

Clank doesn't say anything but sidles closer.

"Don't you ever get tired of me being cynical?" I mutter.

"Tired, never. You should know better," he answers. "Your emotional state will always be my utmost priority. I will embrace you each day if I need to prove this point."

"I wouldn't mind that," sighing was quickly becoming second nature, because I do it again. "So...that's why it'll be a bit hard for me to relax. I can't guarantee I'll be kicking my feet up any time soon Clank, but…if a time is right, I will. Like now. I caught a break after last night, didn't I?"

"That much is true," he agrees.

"Soooo, this is what this is all about!" Qwark says suddenly. Clank and I jump, startled to see him standing near us. "Aw, Ratchet, I should've figured this out sooner! You've been upset because you care about us THAT much? We _are_ family, aren't we? A family of weird misfits, but one nonetheless!"

My head grows hot with embarrassment. "You…how long were you listening?!"

"Long enough, that's for sure!"

"I should take that frying pan to the side of your face while it's still hot!"

"Don't worry; I love you too!" To my horror, he opens his arms up wide and approaches like a storm.

" _Augh!_ Don't you dare, Qwark!" I immediately bolt off the counter, only to run into Talwyn who's suddenly standing in the immediate vicinity. Had I seriously not been paying attention, or was everyone moving like lightning?

"Whoa there buckaroo," she says. "I heard a fair share of that, and I think it's clear what you need."

She reaches her hand behind and places it on a certain spot under my ears. My eyes widen and I try to pull away, but she's got me held down tight. "Oh no no no Tal, not now—"

"I told you minutes ago I'd get you back, now didn't I? And not only that, you've picked up the bad habit of not wanting to show that soft side of yours," she digs her fingers just the right way into the spot, making electrical impulses run through my body. "When this started happening, I'm not too sure…but you need to lighten up."

"Not too…much," I hum through partially clenched teeth, trying to swallow the feeling in my throat. My legs refuse to move. It's like they're weighted down to the floor.

"Oh!" Clank giggles. "I see."

"What's happening? What witchcraft are you doing, Talwyn?" Qwark asks. "Why isn't he hostile anymore?"

"It's a secret technique," she says mischievously. I try to speak and defend myself but that's not what comes out. It's more of a rumbling hum that rolls off my tongue for a brief moment. "Ah!" Talwyn says, "There you go. More?"

"I thought this was supposed to be reserved for us only…" I say, my voice half-strained with an odd guttural sound. The same noise comes from my throat, brief as the first one but definitely loud enough for Clank and Qwark to hear this time. The latter pauses, blinking slowly, then leans his head down. "What…was _that?_ " he asks calmly.

"…nothing."

"He lies," Talwyn says simply.

"I know my ears couldn't have been mistaken!" Qwark says. "Looks like you're not that big of a cat to not purr, huh Ratchet?"

"No, Lombaxes don't _make_ that noise. I don't know what it is you're _hearrrgghhhh_ —" I clench my teeth hard, catching the sensation in my throat before it comes up. Talwyn detects the weakness and attacks the same spot again. "You're mighty stubborn today. And you're not fooling anyone!" she says.

"Ha! Wow, I gotta stick around for this! Make him do it again, Talwyn!" Qwark eggs on.

Great, now he was going to have blackmail against me. I bow my head and press it into Talwyn's shoulder, mumbling. It starts to be less of a wordy muttering and subtly transitions into randomly sized vibrations of sounds coming from the lower part of my larynx. Talwyn lets go of the pressure she has on my ears but I can't even find it in me to stop. Qwark shoves his head right against mine, a dumb smile on his face. "Listen to THAT! Now Ratchet, why didn't you tell us this little secret of yours?"

"Shut up..." I grumble. Talwyn rubs along my back. "That took longer than usual…you're so tense, Ratchet."

"On average it takes you 5.6 seconds to stimulate him, but we must remember that these are not normal times, Miss Apogee," says Clank.

"I've got to keep remembering that. Wait, the average time that it takes me to what?"

"Oh, never mind! Heh heh heh..."

"Am I the only one who hears the fire burning in the background?" I mutter. That was without taking the smoke clouding over our heads in account. "Darn it, Qwark!" Talwyn groans in frustration.

Qwark whirls on the spot, then bolts off. "Oh, no, no, no, no! No, I can still save them! Lucille, Ted, Zed, stay scrambled!" Clank makes an infinitely wise decision to go supervise him, leaving me half-leaning on Talwyn. For a moment I'm actually lax.

"What is it, Ratchet?" she asks quietly; I open my eyes, feeling my guard rise. "What's bothering you? It's not about what happened last night, or even this morning," she continues. "There's something else, isn't there?"

I've stiffened with each word I hear, making her want to loosen our embrace slightly. I sigh out through my nose, shutting my eyes. "It's…"

"Don't you tell me that it's inconsequential," Talwyn says lowly. "You might think of it that way, but I don't. Nothing is more important to me than making sure you're alright. And you're clearly not."

She leans back then takes me by the shoulders, looking at me straight on. I don't return the gaze. I'm afraid she'll discover something in my eyes and instead keep a blank stare directed sideways at the ground. Talwyn is silent for a moment. The main reason she's not prying deeper is likely because she knows she isn't going to get a straight answer from me. Seconds pass, and the only sounds are Qwark fumbling in the background and Clank's distinct scolding.

"Now's not the time to talk about it. It's not something that's easy for me to discuss," I say finally.

"I'm fine with that," she clenches her hands on my shoulder slightly. "Tell me this. Does it have something to do with the _real_ reason you almost worked yourself to death this summer?"

I can't stop the slight gasp that comes out, and even as quiet as it is Talwyn hears it.

"Talwyn," I say quietly, my breath caught. I'd just got done with this with Clank. " I-I can't…I'm not ready to…"

 _Not that. Not now._

 _And not with you._

I lean back far enough to where her hands slip off my shoulders, and she looks slightly hurt. A sigh leaves my chest; great. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid. "Look…I'm sorry, Tal. Now and in advance, for my attitude," I say quietly. "Everything is wrapping together all at once, and…it's hard to handle," I look over, watching Clank and Qwark trying to stop the fire over the oven. "It'll get better. Don't worry about me. I'm just trying to focus on making the best for everyone here in the meantime."

"Well...thank you for your sacrifice. You've already done plenty," she crosses one arm over her body, looking off. "I...I just wish we can spend time with each other without anything else getting in the way."

The corners of my mouth want to form a smile but it's halfway between one and a grimace. Talwyn looks back at me for a moment. The longer she studies me the less understanding I seem to see in her eyes, like she's looking at something she can't quite figure out. "...I want the old you back."

"The old me?"

"Yeah, you know…the person who'd find some way to make a joke about five different things at once or lounge around playing Holo-games when he wasn't working on projects."

At this, an ironic smile cracks on my face. "Funny, I thought I'd never left."

She whaps me on the shoulder as she walks past. "Your sarcasm will forever be stagnant. Now come on you, breakfast is ready. Or…half ready. And by the way," she stops, looking over her shoulder deviously. "When this is over, maybe we can get to some things that I have written on _my_ personal schedule."

I perk up slightly. She winks, passing Clank as he comes from the opposite direction covered in soot. He does a double-take. "Er…I am assuming Ms. Apogee said something that lifted your spirits?"

"That and something else, pal."

* * *

Several minutes later we're crowded around on the sofa. I don't know about the others but it's hard to talk while eating, so I don't really add much to the conversation.

"I think having a facetime with Metnic within the next two hours would be a go. Get her out of the way?" Talwyn asks. "Qwark, just…do us a favor and not let it slip about what happened to you?"

"Now why would I _ever_ mention that a big behemoth snuck in under our radar and tossed me aside to execute later?"

"If you do, I'll make you wish you're still in the closet."

The tone of her voice makes Qwark blanch a little. "She ain't lyin'," I say. When Talwyn got angry it was scary, like sitting on a cactus. Painful and horrifying to think of.

Speaking of which, it's a damn good thing I managed to find some Nanotech earlier to repair my ass end. And thankfully Talwyn hadn't noticed anything, because the way I was walking? Anything _but_ attractive.

"The defenses also need to be raised as soon as possible," says Clank. "In addition, we need to try to troubleshoot and prevent another case like last night from happening once more."

"What will I be doing?" Qwark asks.

"Stay in your room, Captain," I tell him, leaning back. "We've gotta get you an escort to follow you wherever you go. Or you could come with us, whatever you want. But no being by yourself."

"Sure, I'll stay with the family! After all, you guys are where the excitement's at!"

"Figured you'd say that," I drawl, stretching my spine out and folding my arms behind my head. "Ahhh…though, give me a moment...ate a bit too much...by the way Qwark, those eggs? I don't feel sick yet, so I think you did a pretty good job in the end."

"You were right Talwyn, he is nicer!" Qwark says.

"I said yet. If I end up with food poisoning in the bathroom I'll let you know."

After we get breakfast wrapped up, it's about time to get to work. As we're walking towards the meeting room I see two Rangers standing outside the door, talking in hushed voices. One has his back to me and the other partially turned away.

"Everything alright?" I ask.

 _"I didn't do it!"_ The one with his back to me shrieks, jumping straight forward and landing in his partner's arms. I stop, exchanging a confused glance with Clank as the two stagger around clumsily for a moment then inevitably topple to the ground. One of them, H22, picks himself up first. "You're _kidding_ me with that," he says flatly. "Mind showing some dignity, solider?"

The other bounds up, takes a half step forward then retracts it. It's like he doesn't know where he wants to go. I stretch my neck out slightly, trying to get a look at his tag but he's got his shaking arms up, covering it.

"Acknowledge your commanding officer!" H22 instructs. The other quickly lowers his arms, pressing them to his sides. It wasn't hard to piece together that this one was a rookie. I'm careful about not putting too much pressure on him as I walk closer, keeping most of my attention on the veteran. "H22?"

"Yes sir?"

"Your serial tag sounds familiar. You were with the original troupe back in the day, weren't you?"

He stands up a bit straighter. "Yessss sir, I sure was! Glad'ta see you remember me!"

"I wouldn't forget one who's fought by my side," I say. "I notice that you seem to be the head of this particular platoon, am I right?"

"Yes sir, as per Ms. Phyronix's commands," he confirms. "I was assigned to do damage control. You know, help keep some stability in the ranks. Did you want to revoke that now that we're here?"

"No, no, this is perfect," I say, folding my arms behind my back. "I need someone to have a direct connection with the rest of the platoon and give orders when I'm not present."

I look over at the other Ranger. He balks only a little.

"D07?" I ask, turning partially to him. He raises his arm up in a salute, his gun knocking against his head. "Y-Yes sir?"

"What's with the weak knees? This your first assignment?"

He nods, slowly. I smile, but he doesn't seem to be calmed.

"I'd tell you to take a deep breath private, but you don't have the gear to do so," I say lightly. "Was there something you were concerned about, it being your first job?"

It's subtle and I barely catch it, but H22 seems to wilt a little. As much as a robot can wilt, anyway. D07 seems to get a bit worse, lowering his head. "W-W-Well…no," he squeaks. "Nothing in particular, it's all just scary to deal with and I'm the only one who's fresh off the production line…"

"I understand," Clank says, walking up. D07's head whips down, staring at him. "After all, when I was born I came to understand the concept of fear rather quickly."

I chuckle through my teeth, lowering my voice so only he could hear. "Let's not forget naivety..."

"It countered your bull-headedness just fine."

"Owie."

"I apologize Sarge, but he's always like this," H22 says. "…we were just wondering if it would be worth it to send him back to Marcadia for correction."

"Correction of what?"

They both seemed to freeze, catching something I didn't. "In attitude," D07 says, rubbing his gun nervously to his chest. "I mean ha ha, y-you wouldn't want a solider that's a scaredy cat all the time, would you?"

"To be honest, that's how my first experience with Solana's defense force was," I tell him. "Do you know how much nostalgia I'm feeling right now just by being near you? Do you think H22 was as brave as he is when he was in _your_ position years ago?"

" _Heck,_ no!" H22 barks with laughter. "I remember—they tried to pawn a battle off'a Sarge and say it was my birthday! Crazy bastards we were, thinking we could get away with that, heh heh…"

"Exactly. It just takes time for a greenhorn like you to get with the program," it felt really bizarre saying that. Damn it, I was getting older. But D07 doesn't seem to yield. "But what if I make anoth—uh, a mistake? I don't want to inconvenience anyone..."

"It's…a bit too early to be an inconvenience," I say. "With an attitude like that, you're setting yourself up for—"

I stop. For a moment I just look between H22 and D07, every ounce of understanding starting to rush in as I do. I think I've just made a connection.

"So D07, if I were to ask you about your experience with piloting spacecrafts, what would you tell me?" I smirk. "Rookie?"

I've got him. D07 jerks back, freezing. He retreats, starting to shake. "I-I…"

"Look Sarge, I thought it'd be a good idea to let him take the helm so he'd have the new experience!" H22 says quickly. "I didn't expect the rookie to get us lost of course, but it kinda...ended up that way?" he drops his arms, drooping. "...you can demote me now."

"Nah, don't worry," I say, advancing on D07. "It wasn't a bad call H22, but maybe it was a bit too much for him to fly a trans-galactic journey. Probably should've gotten someone more experienced," I stop, now looking eye-to-eye with D07 since his knees had given out. "Heck, _I_ still get a bit lost sometimes when traveling between galaxies."

"S-Sarge I-I-I'm sorry!" D07 cries, raising his hands up. "I had so much pressure on me and we were tight on time and I just lost my nerves, sorry sorry sorry!"

I soften my features, raising my eyebrows. "D07…you know I'm not upset, right?"

"You should be," he says, covering his face. "I felt horrible when you told us about what happened last night. We-we could've been here to help you, but we weren't thanks to me…ohhh everyone here could've died because of me! I'm sorry."

"I don't blame you for that. There's _no_ one to blame," I tell him. "And hey, you still got everyone here, right? That's all that matters. Try to forgive yourself."

I wince slightly. Something in the back of my mind seems to twitch at the hypocrisy of that last statement.

"I'll feel better if no one else ever finds out I was the screw up...they'd probably give me an embarrassing nickname..." D07 says. "But…okay sir. Okay, Sarge. If you tell me move on I will."

"Gotta put your heart where your mind is though, remember that. While I'm thinking about it, it's about time for you to receive your next assignment."

"Already?" he asks. H22 clocks him upside the head. "Ahck! I mean…yes sir, what is it you want me to do?"

I turn my profile. "Qwark?" He's at my shoulder a moment later and I point a thumb up at him, addressing both Rangers. "The both of you? You're going to be Qwark's personal body guards. Follow him around, optics open and audio processors tuned up. Make sure nothing else happens to him."

"What?" Qwark cries. "But…but-but they're not you!"

"Qwark, I need you to understand I can't keep track of running things here and watch you simultaneously," I say calmly. "Because I guarantee with the exception of today, you and I will not be running the same schedule for 99% of the time. You're going to be fine as long as you stay with them."

"Alright, I see your point…" he sighs, sliding around me. "Though I'm just making it _obvious_ that I trust your judgment wholeheartedly, Ratchet."

He sticks out his bottom lip, squinting at me. My mouth forms into a scowl/smile that only Qwark can cause me to make. D07 seems a bit nervous, twiddling his digits. "S-Sir, not that I _don't_ trust your judgement, but…wouldn't you want someone who's not so…nervous?"

"Nope," I state. "You're with your second in command. Work with him. Listen to him, and you'll have nothing to worry about. I _promise_."

He ponders this for a moment and seems to calm down a bit, which is what I was hoping for in the first place. "But," I continue, letting a minimal but noticeable amount of sternness enter my voice, "if you really think you can't handle something like this and won't be able to focus, tell me now. I can't have you breaking down later if pressure starts building on you. Can you do this, D07?"

"I can," he answers pleasantly, maybe a tic of nervousness still in his tone. "I'll be fine, Sarge, it-it just takes me a moment to get used to things. But I think—know _,_ I mean I _know_ I can help protect Captain Qwark. I won't let you down again."

His gun arm starts trembling, and he slams his other hand down on it. "Heh heh, sorry…that happens when I get worked up."

I manage to smile. That was the type of courage I wanted. "At least I know I was right in the fact I can depend on you," I look between them both. "H22 and D07? Captain Qwark should not be without at least one of you at any time."

"Except for like, when I go to the bathroom or something," Qwark adds. " _That'd_ be weird."

I shoot him a sarcastic glance. " _Right._ Bear in mind his…personal times. Otherwise, you know what to do. It's as simple as that," I raise my right hand, putting my pointer and middle finger to my temple in a two-fingered salute. "Understand?"

They mirror my gesture. "Understood."

"Good. Maintain your positions here. We're going in. And one last thing, H22—what's the headcount on everyone you brought along?"

"Thirty-three of us in total, also taking the doctor, technician, and electrician in account," he answers.

Thirty three in total. Had to remember that. "And I've already got the five of you performing definite duties, so that leaves me with twenty-eight Rangers I've got to space out."

"Separate them into different sectors of the Apogee Space Station?" Clank suggests.

"Pairs might be the best, then," I say. "Three levels, three sectors to each level—that's already eighteen of them, if I haven't become inept at multiplication— ("You have not," Clank says undertone) okay good, so that leaves ten of them. Ey! Why don't we have two of them guard that cryostasis chamber to make sure nothing happens to Psyclops? Then put one in the control room for the chamber, to monitor it?"

"That'd be a good idea, actually," Talwyn says, her eyes slightly widened. "We need to keep tabs on him at all time…the home wrecker..."

"What about the other seven?" Clank asks.

I rub a hand under my chin, running through a possibility. "H22, does T34, WD-1 or E-3 have any sort of defense on them?"

"T34 and E-3 don't, no sir. WD-1 might have something that could be wielded as a weapon, push comes to shove. He's a doctor, he might have a scalpel or something tucked in that all-purpose shunt grafted to his arm."

"Then let's put…let's put three outside the security room, and four below in the power room on the lower level," I decide. "We can't risk having anything happen to our defenses again or the people who help regulate them."

I quickly turn my body to walk into the room, though it's more of a move to cover up the yawn that suddenly wants to come up. "You mind relaying that to the team, H22, and make sure everyone gets assembled into groups in the meantime?"

"Yes sir, I gotcha."

The meeting room's empty. "Where'd everyone go, anyway?" I ask, sitting down.

"The last time I heard, they were in the mess hall trying to figure out who would cook dinner tonight," Talwyn says, sounding pretty concerned. "I told them that was fine, as long as no one ends up dying."

"Holy crap Tal, that might be too much leg room," I kick my feet up on the table, leaning back. "More of them actually came than what I was expecting. I thought Sasha meant like ten or maybe fifteen. Can't deny her generosity, though."

"The more the merrier…" Clank says from behind me. It sounds like he's up to something but I'm starting to fall asleep. "Hey, so when is this woman supposed to call? I barely listen to anything she says because it's mostly drivel."

"To be honest I don't feel like making this a daily thing, but we may as well get it over with," Talwyn says. "I'll shoot her a quick automated message and tell her we're ready. I'm surprised you're still here, anyway. Wasn't Clank supposed to be in charge of this?"

"I don't know what I was thinking, trying to pawn her off on him," I say. "I think she might be affected by the whole 'strength in numbers' idea. Hey Clank, you notice how she wasn't holding that fake smile of hers?"

"That was shocking," he answers. "I was trying to theorize why her efforts at being socially polite were being increased. I feel like she has something against you even breathing, Ratchet."

"Now how could I have missed something as obvious as that? Oh, the travesty!" I snort, leaning my head back. "Well, she wouldn't be the first—" My chair suddenly tips over backwards, way too far, and I hit the ground on my back. I have my eyes shut but I can feel someone standing over me. "Whoever did that better start running."

"Uhh…hey, wait!" Qwark suddenly cries. "No! Nonono, that's not fair!"

I get up and face him. He's standing right behind me, his hands raised. "Ratchet I promise I had nothing to do with it, it was Clank!" Clank is standing a few feet away, rubbing a hand along his chin and grinning. "I am not sure what he is talking about."

"Oh, then you're gonna blame someone else?" I ask.

"Now that's not right!" Qwark whines. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you goody-two-shoes Clank pulled a fast one, would you?"

"You'd better be pulling a fast one in these next few seconds."

Instead of running he actually leaps at me, catching me in a body hug. "Now wait just a minute, hear me out! Are you listening, Ratchet?"

"Yes. You'd better be getting ready to give your eulogy. Because when you let me go..."

"He's cutting corners!" Qwark points at Clank. "Using his tricks and whatnot to get out of trouble! You can't penalize me for that! Talwyn, you had to have seen that!"

"Huh?" she asks absentmindedly, hunched over the communications panel. She looks around, giving us a suspicious glance before turning back around. "Whatever you guys are doing, please clean it up before we call Metnic…"

"You've got five seconds," I warn.

"And I'll use all of them to beg and try to convince you!" Qwark cries. My ears twitch and for a moment I space out. Huh…it really sounds like he's telling the truth, I can hear the desperation in his voice. I look over at Clank, who hasn't stopped grinning.

Wait a minute; I wiggle free of Qwark, squinting at Clank. "Clank. Pal. There something you have to say?" He utters a chuckle, then starts flat out giggling in the next few seconds. I put my hands on my hips, fully convinced that I'm missing something.

"O-Okay," he chortles, pulling something around in his hand. I instantly recognize the device. "Isn't that the Teleqwarker? I mean," I slap myself in the face. "…whatever that thing's called. Wait— _you used it, you sneak!_ "

Clank can only manage to nod his head because he's laughing so hard. "See? Told you!" Qwark whines.

"Okay Qwark, I apologize. I really do. But if I'm honest you'll do or say something in the near future that I can blame you for," I say.

"Of course! Just give me credit where I deserve it, alright?"

"I have been waiting for an opportunity to utilize this in an active environment," Clank chortles, idly pressing buttons on it. "I actually planned on incorporating it into our detainment plan for Psyclops last night, but it did not come to that."

"Oh, a part of that Plan B you had? You've been itching to use it, alright," I say. "Sure it helps you get out of trouble...but only for a short while!"

I lunge forward suddenly. He vanishes with a flash of light before I catch him, and I crash to the floor. "Timber," Clank calls. I look to my left, startled, to find him on the table. He flips a chair hard and it falls, pinning itself on me.

"I am so confiscating that from you!" I bound up. Clank holds the device close, backing away as I jump onto the table.

"No. You are not my mother!"

"Right now I am. C'mere!"

I sure hope Lieutenant Metnic isn't connected with our side by now. It'd be hard to explain to her why Clank and I are wrestling on the table and Qwark is cheering in the background. The spat only takes a few seconds, ending with me holding the remote above my head with one hand, and holding Clank off with the other as he tries to reach for it.

"Clank, I wanna take a nap. Are you gonna make it difficult for me?"

"No. I already tested my theory of using it to get out of potentially hazardous situations," he says, trying to jump and reach up. "Think of it as you being a test subject to something that could aid us in the future!"

"…you an' your theories," I toss it down to him, whapping him in the back of the head slightly. "Alright. Gonna take ten, folks…"

I was still tired from last night. I don't know what stage of sleep I was in specifically but I don't think I'm dreaming, only hearing snatches of voices overlapping each other. Weird images blur and twist below my closed eyelids, disappearing as fast as they come into existence. Except for one thing, this point of encroaching light that seems to grow stronger as everything else falls away. I can hear it calling, getting louder and louder the closer it gets.

 _"Raaaatchet?...Ratchet….are you there?"_

Was it…trying to speak to me? What was it, even? I can't respond to it for some reason. It doesn't even seem like I can interact with it, only able to watch as it gets closer, trying to talk to me…

It fizzes, sputters, then suddenly vanishes. A higher sensation is causing me to stir, the grating sound of a voice making my eardrums vibrate.

"…ake him up. It is imperative he is present!"

I snort awake a bit, barely conscious and already starting to slip away again. I wanted to go back to that weird dream. But seconds later I feel someone shaking my shoulder gently.

"Ratchet? You must wake up."

Clank? My already open mouth widens in a yawn, and I come to. That was right, I remember now. I lean up with a slight groan, cracking the bones in my neck and taking the time to gather my patience.

"Are you with us, Ratchet?" Lieutenant Metnic calls sweetly, her voice making me want to grit my teeth. I look over, seeing her spread out on the screen like a plague. My eyes widen slightly; wait a minute, the resolution was stretched out, making her image look wider than normal. Actually no, it was _probably_ normal.

"Nice stretch," I say quietly to Clank, barely holding down my laughter. He chortles. "Be nice…"

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?" Talwyn asks. "We've got everyone here now, so…we're all yours."

I almost gag at the way she puts it. "Splendid. I've been waiting for this," Metnic looks at me and I harden my gaze, not enough to actively challenge her but show her I wasn't rolling as soft as Talwyn. "Was there something you had for me first, Lieutenant?" I ask.

"Yes. I was concerned with why the Galactic force from Solana was so late, firsthand," she says. "I believe that their tardiness is a set example of neglecting their duty. If it was due to outside forces I will understand. But if it was by personal error, some measures must be taken."

"Measures?"

"I understand that Galactic Rangers are robots," she says. "Applying shocks to their central processing units may help get them in line."

I'm almost positive I can hear D07 starting to sob outside. "That's not necessary."

"So I take that to mean they were impeded by forces out of their control," she says, narrowing her eyes. "Just make sure that you have direct command of the entire group so no one loses focus. That includes you."

"That's simple enough," I say, half-yawning. "I couldn't ask for a better troupe. Rangers've never left me hanging."

She twitches ever so slightly. I can almost hear all of her blood vessels bursting. "And, have you made sure that Captain Qwark is being monitored at all times?"

I show my teeth in a sideways grin. She was really trying to catch me slacking. "That goes without saying, Lieutenant. I've already assigned him two escorts that'll follow him and keep his status secured."

"Excellent!" she titters, tenting her fingers together. It was probably subliminal messaging that she wants to strangle me. "Just excellent. Now, Ms. Apogee?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Your defenses, young lady. How are they?"

Talwyn doesn't flinch. "They're functional."

"Fully functional?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Lieutenant Metnic squints slightly at her. "Ms. Apogee, do you remember what the penalty would be if you kept that defense grid lowered by any irrational means?"

"My ownership of the Apogee Space Station will be momentarily suspended, and another member of the Polarian Defense Force will take my place until the operation is over," Talwyn says. "I recall."

"Right. So, just to make sure everything is running by standard, occasionally I'll send a representative by to check on it. Just to make sure!"

Talwyn bows her head in a slight nod. Meanwhile I'm getting nervous. That seemed really harsh. Oh, shoot. I hoped that representative wasn't coming by for a minute.

Crap! I had to hurry and see what their progress on the defenses were. I didn't want Talwyn to be kicked out her own house for something that wasn't even her fault.

"Ratchet," Qwark inches from behind, his voice lowered. "I'm…guessing it'd be a no-go to tell her about last night?"

"That's right, Qwark. I don't trust what she'd do if we told her," I say. "Granted, it wasn't our fault Psyclops broke in. But she'll find _some_ way to twist it to the PDF that it stemmed from our negligence, even _if_ we told her all the facts. If we disclose the information, it'd have to be to someone who's higher than her. And someone who won't use their power over us to screw us."

"As of now, we have no idea who that may be," Clank says. "It will be addressed later. It is a careful subject."

"Captain Qwark?" Metnic calls, making him jump. "One moment of your time?"

"C-Coming!" he quickly separates from us. I could see why he was concerned, after all. Again, withholding information from the government was a surefire way to catch hell but I couldn't let it get out. Not yet. Call it my paranoia, but it'd only cause us chaos by telling _this_ smiling fraud. For now I just planned on us keeping a close eye on our prisoner.

"You think we could grill Psyclops while we have him here?" I ask Clank. "I've got to find a bit of exposition behind his arrival. There's just so much ambiguity in this situation."

Clank hesitates for a moment, tapping his fingers together. "We would have to make sure that he is very, very well detained," he says gravely. "If we do not…"

"We'll do everything and anything if we have to. I'm not taking any chances," I say, glancing over to check if they were still talking. "It'd look better on us anyway if we had an idea of who or what we're dealing with before we told someone. Eh," I shrug slightly. "Keeping secrets from the government. I wonder if that's the most illegal thing I'll ever do..."

"…think I'd have a nice time here. I can't ask for anything better than this!" Qwark was saying.

"So you don't have any qualms about your stay thus far?" Metnic questions.

I subtly eye Qwark sideways, noticing Clank and Talwyn in similar stances. He shrugs lightly. "Nah. I haven't been given any reason to want to abandon ship, soooo….I'm pretty sure that's a sign everyone's doing their job here."

"Is that right?" Metnic says, sounding and looking a bit unimpressed. She seems really upset she can't get on anyone's ass for anything. "Captain Qwark, I need you to be serious, for once."

"I am, Lieutenant! There's not exactly anything for me to be cloak and dagger about…"

"Which would go against your typical modus operandi," she responds coolly. "I'm just trying to make sure your sense of judgment isn't skewed."

Like your face?

"When it comes to trusting the people that protect me, what's there to hide?" Qwark sighs, throwing his arms out. "I don't know how they've got you operating in the PDF, Lieutenant, but I can at least understand what it's like to have people who watch my back."

Whoa; I freeze mid-way through a yawn, cutting my widened eyes to the side. Clank's mouth creaks open in surprise. Bluntness or gratitude wasn't usually anything that came from Qwark, but both of them at the _same time?_ Was I still asleep?

Lieutenant Metnic seems to have taken that as a low blow, because I'm sure I can see a vein in her head throbbing. "Well," she says, sounding like she was about to explode. "astutely put. I suppose that's all I'll ask for today. Everything seems to be in top order. I expect to keep hearing good things from you all," she looks at me. "And if there are any problems, make sure to contact me. Understood?"

"Understood," Talwyn answers hurriedly.

"Then that is all for now. Metnic out."

The screen with her picture fades to black. "Man Qwark, you shut her down!" I crow, punching him in the shoulder. "She didn't have anything to say to that!"

"Yeah, that was…pretty surprising," Talwyn says, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Oh, that? Yeah, guess that was pretty out of character, huh? Who'd expect someone who runs his mouth about _himself_ all the time to admit the truth every once in a while?" He rubs the back of his head, looking a bit awkward.

That couldn't have been easy for him to say. I think I feel respect I didn't know I had for Qwark rise substantially. "Stop being so rosy cheeked, big guy," I say. "It's going to start weirding me out after so long."

"I agree!"

He strides past, throwing me to the side. "Anyway, let's get this show on the road and do whatever's next. I'm missing my daily back massage and I need to break that rookie into the task!"

"Checking the defenses is next. We must make sure we provide credible sources," Clank says. "I sense Lieutenant Metnic is quickly growing disillusioned with all of us and would like to inevitably see us self-destruct. By her hand or another."

"That reminds me—why didn't you tell us she was a part of your 'Secret Service'?" I question. Qwark looks contemplative for a moment, then makes an awkward shrug.

"Forgot about her, to be honest. She put herself in," he says. "I didn't want her, but she insisted…she did do her part and helped arrange the scenario of me being protected with Sasha in the first place, but... " he scoffs. "Look where that's lead. But who am I to talk? I just can't wait to get back to those sunny beaches and skimpy swimsuits…"

I push him to the door. "Don't worry, I'm workin' on it."

D07 flinches when we walk out. "S-Sarge is that woman gone? Is she going to electrocute me?"

"No, she's not gonna get you. Even if she wanted to she'd have to go through me," I tell him. "No need to worry about that, D07. You're not too shaken up, are you? We're all about to make a stop to the security room."

"Been receiving updates from them, periodically," H22 says, as we walk down the hall. "They should be concluding things here in a minute."

"That's a relief," I say. I look to the side, almost missing the worry before it slips off Talwyn's face. She tries to smile but it comes out crooked. I move closer, lowering my voice. "Don't worry. They're gonna have to go through me if they want to kick you out your own house."

* * *

"That doesn't go there."

"What? You're the one who told me to put it there in the first place."

"You're looking at the wrong thing. I said the plug to your left, not right!"

"Right, I'm looking left."

"Wrong, you're looking right!"

"I know I'm right!"

"Ugh, you are so dumb you don't even know when you're being dumb!"

"But who was assigned this job first, huh? ME. And who was assigned second? YOU!"

"You're a deadbolt!"

"You're a broke back!"

"I hope Sarge demotes you!"

"I hope Sarge disassembles you!"

"I actually can't do either of those things," I say.

Both Rangers jump, making dual head collisions with the control panel they'd been hunched below. At the same time they recover, pointing at each other. "Look at this, Sarge! He—" E-3 begins.

"No, I'm doing my job! He thinks 'cause he's the head electrician he gets to do all the fun stuff and leaves me with the—"

"—second hand work? Yeah! Because I'm the HEAD ELECTRICIAN. When you're fixin' ships, I can be your assistant!"

"He didn't assign me to be your assistant, he assigned us to work together!"

"But I know more about this type of work! So theoretically in the case you screw something up, I'll know how to fix it!"

"Is this normal?" I ask a Ranger, who'd been standing next to the door. "Yeep. They're alright when they're not working with each other. But that rivalry sure comes out when they end up having to cooperate."

"I believe this may end up being more commonplace, seeing as to how their fields overlap," Clank says, watching them bicker. "It does not seem to be resulting in a productive time."

"Guys, easy," I say, going up to them. They both at least stop arguing and look at me. "Hey, look. I need less of this and more working, alright? It's important you keep this area running the way it needs to be."

"We were just putting the finishing touches in order," E-3 says. "But unfortunately, we seem to be having trouble putting the main power line in the proper socket."

Without saying a word T34 picks up the red, thick cable near his knee and jams it into a coded socket underneath the panel. Almost immediately the security room comes to life, and across the board the monitors start flickering on.

"Hm. You guys can bicker and work together at the same time, is that it?" I ask.

T34 jabs his finger to his partner. "He always starts it. And presto, I'm the person who has the stones to end it."

"Interesting," Clank says, walking up. "I am the one who tends to end disagreements between myself and Ratchet."

"Yeeeep," I drawl. "I'm not afraid to admit that."

"I ain't either, but working with this guy?" E-3 shoots a look at T34. "Makes you want to rip all your limbs off."

"That my friend, I'll gladly assist you with," T34 states. I can already sense another argument coming, so I step between them quickly. Like all Rangers they're both two heads taller than I am and can easily throw punches if they wanted, but it was my presence that counted.

"But anyway, let's give Sarge the lowdown," T34 says. "We repaired the room's AI. She should be coming online—ah, there we go!"

There's a beeping noise to the top right, and I didn't have to look to see that A1-S's control module had turned from red to blue. "A1-S? You there?" I call. "You read me?"

"She needs to take a moment to boot up all the way. I'd give her about a minute," E-3 says. "Meanwhile, we've got information about what happened down below.

"You see, it's clear Psyclops got in after the defenses were lowered. Defenses that could have _only_ been disabled from the inside. To put it straight, the main power node that'd connected to the security room and A1-S's mainframe..." he lifts his hands, dropping them. "Well Sarge, the first thing that we noticed was that it was offline."

"Off?" I repeat. "How could it have just been _off?_ Someone had to have turned it that way, right?"

"Assumedly," T34 says, rubbing behind his head.

That was what I didn't get. I was up cycling through each of those monitors every passing second. I would have seen someone else, for a fact, wandering through these hallways.

Un…Unless…

"Talwyn, when did you first raise that defense grid?" I ask slowly, trying to craft a mental timeline.

"As soon as Sasha and Metnic told me what was going on," she says.

"That's what I thought. So…what I'm considering can't make sense. If you raised that grid right away no one passed though until we did, right?"

"And, not to mention I did a quick grounds check to make sure I didn't see anything suspicious," she says. "My place is way too big for me not to make sure all rooms are secure at least twice a day."

I was remembering the ghost-like, shiftier sense of discomfort I'd had last night when I had been walking en route to the security room. My paranoia. Hearing something that wasn't there. Footsteps...but had they been ones that belonged to my mind or reality?

It didn't feel like we were missing anything. But at the same time, my gut is telling me that we still are. This was going to drive me crazy, not knowing how the power canceled out. I roll my shoulders. I hated this, not knowing if we were as safe as we thought we were.

"What do you guys think happened?" I ask the two robots, interested to see their take.

"Here's some possible disclosure," T34 says. "We theorized that it was because of faulty tech. What was there wasn't quite uniform. Ms. Apogee, that defense system was installed pretty recently, wasn't it?"

"Right," she says. "It was a reimbursement from the Polarian Defense Force."

E-3 and T34 both nod. "As we thought," the former states. "You see, whoever connected the new hardware to the old hardware didn't do the most stellar job."

"What we noticed is that the connection between the grid's power source and A1-S's power source wasn't exactly immaculate, to put it in simple terms," T34 adds.

"We think the power node was affected by past infrequencies that came back to haunt it. When it was installed Ms. Apogee, looks like someone rushed the job a bit..."

"A bit?" T34 asks.

Talwyn raises an eyebrow.

E-3 cringes. "Okay, a lotta bit. Not everything was wired up with tact. Most of what was down there _was_ working decently but not to the highest potential. That makes a clear difference. A slightly jarred cable here, a worn reattachment here, ehhhh frankly...it's not hard to see how something like a power failure could have come about."

"So…you think it just gave out by itself?" I ask, rubbing my temple. I wasn't sure about that. "When I think about it, and the timing…I'm not sure. That's implying that the power on the inside failed, just in time for Psyclops to get through. Doesn't that seem…"

"Too coincidental?" E-3 asks. T34 nods downcast, intertwining his fingers, "That's…right."

I sigh a bit, starting to pace slightly. "I'm not trying to disregard anything you've said guys, but…it's all too ambiguous. We can't really know for sure. And I need to know so it—"

 ** _"RATCHEEET!"_**

All of us flinch, especially those of us with ears the size of their head. I lower my hands slightly. "Uh, guys? Is her audio modulator tuned higher than normal?"

"No. It's not," A1-S says. All of us immediately grow silent. Her voice is filled with absolute fury, almost shaking. "And you, Ratchet. I have some words to give you, mister."

Her tone of voice is too much like Clank's, sometimes Aphelion's, when they're scolding me for doing something stupid. It gets me every time. My ears level with my head and I suddenly feel a bit more self-conscious. "…me?"

"Yes, I am very agitated! I know not what has happened these past seven hours, forty three minutes, and thirty three and counting seconds I have been offline, but I am QUITE surprised to see all of you in the realm of the living! Your negligence was inexcusable! I expected you to be sharp while monitoring an _entire framework of security,_ but it does not appear so!"

She stops ranting for a moment. I'm sure she'd be panting if she had lungs. Meanwhile everyone in the room is completely still. For some reason I can't speak and my head has gone blank. I couldn't even wonder why she was so upset.

"Have you not realized it?" A1-S asks quietly, several of the monitors rippling in agitation. " _Think_ for a moment, Ratchet. Have you not considered that, in the instant we had an intruder I wouldn't try to warn you?"

"Wh-What?"

"Sixteen. Seconds. Sixteen whole seconds, I tried to call you. I tried to _warn_ you that my connection with the defenses had weakened. I tried to warn you that the grid had fallen and that someone was actively breaking in. I tried to _wake you up._ "

But I didn't. I didn't.

None of her words fully register as just communication. Audibly, they're transfigured to muffled, heavy intonations of hostile emotion. I have my hands braced on the control panel, my head lowering further with every second she spoke.

And the worst part is, it took this long for me to realize my error. Something so simple, so innocent like taking a nap had almost destroyed us all. I hadn't known that the problem in the power room would happen. I wasn't expecting anything. For that, I had let my guard down.

Somewhere deep down I want to laugh. Earlier I'd told D07 that it wasn't anyone's fault that Psyclops managed to breach the station. That wasn't true. Last night could have been less hazardous or even prevented entirely if I hadn't slacked off.

It had all been on my shoulders, and I'd let it slip—almost too far to recover, let alone keep under control.

A1-S has stopped berating me by now, and the silence is smothering. Everyone's looking at me, I can tell. Were they…unsure? Upset? Judgmental?

No…I couldn't bear to look. It'd hurt. They'd see through me, the truth in its entirety. There's a bit of an echo in my ears now, and I can hear my own slight breathing picking up as I stare down at my hands.

"I'm sorry," I manage to say, the words tumbling out of my mouth. "I-I did…that happened. Sorry. Sorry, Ri—A-A1-S…I'll have a team of Rangers stationed in here so that doesn't happen again…"

She doesn't say anything. No one's saying anything. Why? It was making me really nervous. I shut my eyes, closing my spinning field of vision off to darkness. I step back from the panel.

"…I'll be back," I mutter, turning rigidly, quickly, and keeping my head down. I think someone calls my name but I only pin my ears down in shame, exiting out the room. As soon as I'm outside and the doors shut I make a sudden bolt, likely startling three Rangers on guard outside.

My entire body is running hotter every second, and I hope I can make it if I'm about to pass out. I find the nearest bathroom and lurch in, half collapsing on the sink.

I let out the breath I've been holding, starting to hyperventilate. My head is spiraling with self-directed fury and shame. On the inside everything felt like it was spurting all out wildly at once, splattering me with vengeance.

I clench both hands into the sink. I feel an unpleasant lurch in my midsection and retch a bit, quickly pressing a fist to my mouth. My breakfast suddenly wants out right now. I breathe out through my mouth, slowly, leaning my head down in my arms. It takes minutes for my stomach to settle down, but I don't feel any less sick.

A1-S was right. She had every right to be upset with me.

It…still hurt a surprising amount. Could I not have one moment of peace that wouldn't turn around and bite me in the ass? Does this mean I can't afford to lower my guard, even for moments that seem innocent?

So many feelings are overlapping, spilling out of my brain and I can't even think rationally. I struggle to recuperate, trying to center my mind. But it's hard. Why is it getting so hard, just to put my emotions where I want them to go?

 _Why can't I calm down?_

Now was not the time for my mind to start collapsing in on itself. Control it, I _had_ to control what sense I had left!

I roughly switch on the tap, and lower my head under the flow. My headache doesn't go away, nor does it do anything to stem the complete bellow of frustration that's slowly creeping up my throat. I clench my teeth, literally feeling the water trickling down my face come to a boil.

Nothing's working. I've already eaten. Had a decent sleep. Didn't have to piss. But it's like I was still out of coordination. What did I have to do damn it, to feel normal again?

I can feel my rage growing, furthered multiplied by my frustration. I shut my eyes, struggling to keep my mouth closed. There's a deep growl coming up from the back of my throat, begging to be released in a much louder frequency. Calm down, calm down, calm down…

"…Ratchet?"

My eyes snap open and I raise my head up, water dripping off my face. In the mirror I can see Clank walking up behind me. Whatever he sees in my expression makes him hesitate midstep.

But he only pauses for a second and comes closer. His presence seems to have snapped my fit clean in half; I slump down from the sink and to the ground, tired. "Clank," I say, my voice strained. "I don't…know why I'm getting like this."

"Like what?"

"This same thing happened earlier today…" I sigh, dragging my hand across my face. "Remember when I left the meeting room earlier, after talking to everyone? I just…started panicking, on the inside. Nothing was even wrong, I, I just…it just happened. And when we were just in the security room, that…"

I lean my head back against the wall a bit roughly, rubbing it against the cool surface. "That made something in me shatter, knowing it was my fault. _All_ of it was my fault. I caused the very last thing I would want to. I had to leave," I shiver slightly. "I…I felt sick. Embarrassed."

I slouch down until I'm lying on my front, too weak to even care I'm on a bathroom floor. Clank sits down next to me. "Ratchet…you appear to be suffering from anxiety. It seems that what has happened recently is starting to take a toll in ways you can detect and ways you cannot."

"And I don't like it, me losing my nerve like that," I sigh, curling my tail over my legs. "I thought I was better than this, to not lose control of myself. I _know_ I'm better than lying on the ground like a child in time out…"

"You cannot say that…all the time, Ratchet. Even you have your limits, extended as they may be," Clank lowers his eyelids. "It is clear you tend to suppress your emotions. Agreed?"

"Enhh," I grunt, tossing my head. Clank nods lightly. "Then it is simple. That is what caused you to have an emotional breakdown. What A1-S told you was the final tipping point."

"That was stupid of me," I hiss. "She was right, Clank. I even TOLD you I fell asleep but didn't even realize how significant that was. If I'd just been paying attention…"

A sudden surge of anger makes my head hot.

I want to slam my fist into the ground as hard as I can. It's only because I can still rationalize I stop myself from breaking my hand. But it does form into a fist. I stare at it for a moment. "I need to be more careful in the future," I utter. "Do everything I can to stop this. Now. This _weakness._ "

"I see it not as being weak, Ratchet."

"What would you call it, then? What would you call my head being jacked up, me hearing voices and being paranoid about even _falling asleep_ now? Crazy? Detrimental? _Sad?_ " I utter a short laugh. "Whatever it is, it's a sorry sight for sore eyes."

"If... If escaping your surroundings helps calm you down, I see. I will help in any way I can to minimize stress levels."

"Help? I'd be the biggest liar if I said you weren't already helping," I mutter. "Clank…you're here. I would've gone crazy a long, long time ago without you. Just…promise me. Keep being here?"

He offers me a slight smile. "Well I did not plan on going on vacation anytime soon, so I have no desire nor options to leave, Ratchet."

"Thanks, pal," I sigh. Seconds turn in to minutes as we just sit there, silent. I finally start to calm down. As much as I don't want to move I have to, eventually. I couldn't duck out of duty forever.

"…I think I'm ready to go," I say, leaning up into a sitting position.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…gotta make sure everything's in order. But I don't like the idea of having those…moments. How do I fix something like that, Clank?"

Clank speaks, slowly. "Ratchet, at this point in time you will not like me posing the suggestion of sleeping more. But I do think it is a requirement. Some of your fatigue should lessen."

"Nah I'm good."

The only sign he shows he heard me is to narrow his eyes slightly. "A minimum of eight hours in the twenty-four per day is required. Day time naps might help. And remember, you have people watching everything while you are not."

"Still, eight hours? That's like, thirty three percent of the day," I groan, rubbing my face. "You've seen me work off of just five a day, Clank. And if I really tried I could manage an all-nighter."

"That much is true. But it is not what you can do, it is what is _needed_ to have a worthwhile rest."

"M'kay."

He gives me a blank look.

"Fine, I'll cycle in eight hours…but not every night," I say. "Maybe like…every other night. That sound good, Mom?"

"Yes it does, actually. Your sleep schedule needs to get back on track. I also assume finding activities to help better your mood will do you well," he snaps his fingers. "Oh! How obvious! When we go to the firing range to practice, will that not double as being a time when you can blow off steam?"

"That's a start, yeah," I say, then get a distant look. "Of course, I'd have to fit that in with the schedule of maintaining things around the station, and running security and watching over Psyclops, plus—"

"And that _we_ will manage _."_

My rambling's cut short, and I look at him. "You will be fine, Ratchet," Clank states, his expression determined. "I will help you make sure of it."

I blink, twice, and my vision seems to get blurry. Clank holds his arms out. It's easy to get to a kneel because my knees are still weak. I manage to not collapse on top of Clank, pulling him close to my chest in a hug. It's a good thing he doesn't need to breathe because I hold onto him tightly for a good minute.

As much as I don't want to I let him go. We silently trek back to the security room. The massive hole Psyclops made in the floor is now patched up with several thick sheets of metal welded down on to the floor. I snort slightly, remembering a similar case back on Veldin in the wall of my weapons vault. Didn't _that_ seem long ago.

"You alright there, Sarge?" asks one of the three Rangers on security duty as we approach. "Saw you peeling out earlier…"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Had a bad case of food poisoning…" As soon as we pass them and enter the room I wear a mask of stoicism, trying to reorient myself. "We got footage of Psyclops breaking in?"

The others look over; E-3 is the first to react, nodding and turning to the dash. "Yes sir, we do. Let me reroute that camera to the main screen…"

The big screen flickers from the outward view of the space station to another image. "Location and time?" I question.

"This is from primary camera 114, location in the hangar, at approximately 11:38 PM last night…" A1-S states. The screen comes into focus, giving us a panned shot of the hanger. It's from the southeast corner, and we can see the doors at the far left. "This is the point in time, minus three seconds, when the intruder broke in."

"Play, please," I state, coming to a halt next to Talwyn. I can feel her glance at the side of my head but don't return the look.

The tape starts rolling a moment later. The camera's positioned at the right angle to catch two pairs of claws jut out from the ceiling doors of the hangar, beginning to pry them open with titanic strength. We watch the tape, silent, as Psyclops forced himself through a wide enough gap and dropped down hard enough to make the camera shake. He hadn't hesitated after that and he'd shifted toward the doors, squeezing out through them and vanishing. The screen goes dead.

I narrow my eyes. So he'd come in by himself, at least. I could have solace knowing that. "Is the defense grid active?"

"Already up sir," T34 confirms. "We've got optimum cover all over."

Then what remains is keeping a close eye on everything on our side. "It looks like everything's set here. E-3, T34, if you see anything suspicious, radio us, then send dispatch out. Thanks for your help, guys."

I turn around. "I'm going to go drop in on several patrols. Stay perky, everyone."

Clank wordlessly attaches himself to my back. Even then I can feel numerous eyes, looks, on the back of my head.

I hoped they weren't doubtful.

* * *

Across the next several hours we run routes and have traversed the entire station by the time eight rolls around. I make sure that Psyclops is being guarded by two Rangers, and another monitoring the room. All halls were being patrolled by no less than six Rangers at a time.

A really good shower after the entire day seems to melt off the stress. There was something about the water pounding against my head that helps me rationalize better. I needed to keep morale here no lower than neutral, after all, and that started with me being a rock.

A rock that…was a bit worn, tattered around the edges. Not weighted in the ground too well.

But then again, they didn't have to know that.

Was it bad, lying to my soldiers to keep their attitudes in check? I felt like I was leading them astray because I wasn't as strong as I was appearing. But I had to try my best in the meanwhile, under this guise.

I half open my eyes, watching the water run down the side of my face. Granted, it was just a full day one. Things should get better since everything's established. I shut the tap off, standing for a moment in the shower.

Even then, I'm well aware that things could still take a downturn even if parameters are established. I wouldn't even call that being cynical, it's more so my realism. With a groan I turn the shower back on, pressing my head forward onto the wall.

I hated being realistic sometimes.

When I manage to finally drag myself out the shower and get some clothes on, I carry myself to our suite.

"Hello, Ratchet."

"Hey, pal."

The ceiling fan's on, and the lamp is the only light casting over the room. Clank is reading a book on the side of the bed close to the light. I'm perfectly happy with lying down in the shadowed side, getting comfortable. It was time to get to sleep, I guess.

But how much time passes? Thirty minutes, maybe an hour? It's late. I'm physically tired, but I don't feel like going to sleep. Oh come on. I spent the first part of the day half awake. Now there was no telling how long I would stay up with everything on my mind.

I shut my eyes, pacing my breathing and trying to relax my muscles. The covers do feel good…and maybe if I move this pillow in this space underneath my neck it'll feel better.

I settle down. Then I say, "Hey..."

"Hm?" Clank looks over.

"I had really weird dream earlier. Like, nothing made sense in any shape or form, but I could hear a ton of voices in my head. There was this weird light calling my name…couldn't tell what it was," I chuckle weakly. "To me it sounded like someone had been trying to dial my number for the longest, and wasn't quite sure if they'd really reached me yet..."

Clank gives me an odd look. "Have you ever had a dream like that before?"

"Nope," I yawn. "Never…it does make me curious, though…"

I nod off after that. My sleep isn't disturbed by a plethora of noises or grainy images. There's cosmic reverberations pulsing across my subconscious in waves of calming blue, almost as if they were telling me everything would be alright. I can't explain the ethereal noise that twists mysteriously, sounding like inflections of my own name.

As strange as it was I found comfort. And what a better night of sleep than the last.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Just for reference, when Qwark's in the closet with the tape over his mouth here's what he says (or tries to say):_**

1\. "Ratchet, Clank!"

2\. "Oh man, am I glad to see you!"

3\. "What about my mouth?"

4\. "I can't take this anymore!"

5\. "Get me out of heeere!"


	5. Eyes Wide Shut

It's bizarre. Sometimes you find solace in the things you least expect.

I fill my lungs up with air then let it out slowly. My entire body is rooted to the ground, relaxed. A blue light is washing over me, filling my eyes and cradling me with a sense of calmness.

Had it not been for the luminescent tank I'm sitting in front of, it would have been completely dark. There's hundreds of forms cutting through the other side of the wall sized glass, each of them a unique shape or color.

I watch. Not one particular fish at all times, but I flit my eyes every other five to six seconds, shifting my attention between them. Some small ones are quick to dart like little torpedoes and bigger ones slowly idle on, not a care in the world. It's mesmerizing.

The tip of my tail is striking the ground. Once…twice…three times…

…fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six seconds, fifty-five seconds. I'm counting down from five minutes. Then it was time to get back to work for another four or five hours. Then come back here for another five minutes. Then go to the range or the hangar for training. Come back here. Repeat.

I've been moving on auto-pilot these last seven days. I can't remember the last time I rested, but I do know it's been hard to go to sleep lately for some reason. Good thing Clank hasn't caught on.

Being in here somehow reminds me of what happens when I close my eyes and see weird things. I wished that what I saw in my dreams where as transparent as all these fish swimming before me. If I could reach out and catch ahold of something, maybe I'd understand it a bit better.

My hand's stretching out. It stops halfway. After a pause I turn my head slightly, sighing a bit as I withdraw it. Five…four…three…two…one. My tail falls still. Time's up.

"…Tal, come on out. I know you're there."

It seems that I'm speaking to air at first. Behind me, in the near darkness I can hear a faint scuffling. "Aw, I thought I was being quiet!" There's a slight echo in Talwyn's voice from across the room. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Footsteps too light to be Qwark's. And as loud as Clank is when he walks, he couldn't ever sneak up on anyone." I wasn't going to add I literally smelled her hiding in the room for the past thirty minutes. That was some strong perfume she had on. Talwyn comes up and sits down next to me. She looks at the tank for a moment, then to me, "Is this a new pastime of yours?"

"Mmhmm," I say, nodding slowly. "Helps ease the mind."

For a moment we're both silent. I uncross my legs and lean back on my hands. "So, how's it been with you?"

Talwyn wraps her arms around her knees. "Same old, same old. Still running along the old grind of micromanaging, if you want to call it that. Guess where the hard part comes in?"

"Qwark?"

"Yep," she says. "I guess since you and Clank aren't around as often, he attaches himself to me. Apparently he finds it boring to be cooped up in his room all day."

"I actually caught him red handed about several days ago trying to leave the Station. He'd asked D07 and H22 to search his room and clean out all the dust bunnies in it, then slipped by them unawares," I say. "He tried to use the escape pod in his ship to leave, I guess because he thought he'd be able to stay under the radar a bit easier."

"I don't know what he thought he was going to do after that! They'd have to lower the defenses for him to actually leave the perimeter!"

A snort leaves my chest. "Tal, I don't even think he thought ahead that far."

"How'd you find out he was leaving? I thought you'd be too hung up to keep track of him."

"Never would've known if Aphelion hadn't radioed me." I say. I'd gotten her back just the day before from a delivery carrier. The Rangers on Marcadia had done well on her and I could hardly tell she'd been roughed up in a crash. "She saw him trying to sneak out and assumed he wasn't up to any good. Boy I tell ya, the look on Qwark's face when he heard tapping on his window and saw me standing outside…I would've split my sides laughing if I wasn't so peeved at him."

Talwyn chirps in amusement. "I can imagine…please, at least tell me he had a reasonable explanation for leaving."

"I think it had something to do with the pizza coupon he was holding."

"I can't stand him sometimes," she groans. "Speaking of Aphelion, what happened to her? She was brought in by a repair ship, wasn't she?"

I cut my eyes at her, looking off. It only acts as a draw and she squints as she faces me.

"Ratchet…you weren't _distracted_ , where you?"

"Not…really. Y'see, cases where controlled flight into terrain has happened…they uh, occur from a range of possibilities! Like…forgetting what did what…" I finish at a mutter.

Talwyn's forehead wrinkles up. " _Whhhaat?_ "

"Eh…it can happen to the best of us." I give a casual shrug, tugging idly at my boots. My hoverboots, mind you, which Clank told me I'd apparently stashed in Aphelion's trunk a month, five days and seventeen minutes ago to that moment I'd opened back it in the hangar. Leave it to him to remember minor details.

"Well…what about you?" Talwyn asks.

"Hm?" I'm distracted by the fish again.

"I've barely seen you these past few days, you workaholic. Have you been in here a lot of the time?"

"A moderate amount," I admit, standing up and stretching. "Whenever I'm not working shifts, at the range or with Aphelion."

"Have you even gotten any sleep?"

"Yeeeep." Man, that was the most confident lie I ever told. Talwyn still appears uncertain as she gets up, looking me up and down.

"Okay, then…I'm just checking to make sure you don't crash and burn out of nowhere."

"Nah, not in a million—" a fish zips by and my head whips to follow it before turning back to Talwyn. "—years."

I pick up and fasten the praetorian wrench to my back. With us spending long hours daily in the firing range, Clank hasn't had to lend his aid by giving me vocal commands as of these past couple of days. Which was great improvement, but I still needed to get that _me_ feeling back.

It's weird. I've gotten some skill back and, ever since she'd arrived, on my way to relearning how Aphelion works just fine, but…I don't know. I don't feel as much satisfaction as I thought I would. I thought I was getting more to be like me, but maybe the me I'm thinking about isn't…the one…I'm rebecoming.

I glance over, surfacing up from my sea of personal problems, and find Talwyn watching me. Oh crap, did she hear my thoughts? No way, right? Right…? She looks like she's seeing right through me…stop thinking! Say words!

"U-Uhh…" I clear my throat. Talwyn takes her eyes from mine, looking at the ground thoughtfully. "…hey you," she says. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, what is it?" I ask, slightly nervous. Hell, was it about marriage? I wasn't ready! I should've bought a ring to have on standby or something! I should've thought ahead! I know I was prone to near death experiences and she probably wanted to jump on the opportunity after so many years but what a terrible time to ask me about it—what if it was about _having a child?_

"Can we go spend some time together? Just a little bit?"

Oh.

Right…of course it wasn't what I was thinking.

I have spent time with almost everyone here in the past week. Clank, Qwark, the Rangers, Aphelion…but not really with Talwyn, now that I realize. I'm not sure how that happened. I should at least give her this.

And dare I mention it, I haven't a single conflict this past week after the first chaotic night.

That was so dumb to even _think_ , and I likely just hosed myself. "Yeah, of course." I answer, twitching with the notion that some complete BS was waiting around a figurative corner. Talwyn seems to deflate in relief, like she's been holding her breath.

"I appreciate it. I know you've been busy and have a lot of things to do, but thank you for taking my selfish request."

"It's not selfish. I really haven't been with you, I understand," I say. "So…what's this we're going to be doing in our alone time?"

"Just a little bit of exercise."

"Do we need any specific equipment, something you prefer?"

Talwyn hooks her fingers into the neck of my suit, pulling me close. " _Nope._ Just you." She slings me to the side and a moment later, and the praetorian wrench on my back fully extends. Sorry, but the metaphors don't hold a candle to reality.

Once I've gotten myself together I lurk after Talwyn, nearly breathing steam out my nostrils. It surprises me at how quickly I've gotten riled up. Speaking modestly, it has been a while ever since we had some time together. It doesn't help that she keeps teasing me like this.

For a split moment I wonder what the good Lieutenant would think if she saw our decision, and almost laugh. It'd be a stretch to say I care.

"Hey so, isn't there something you've got next month?" Talwyn asks.

I almost miss the question, too busy thinking about other matters. "Not uh, from what I can remember, no."

"Focus, big boy."

She sounds like she's really expecting me to remember but my mind's been on just work lately I hadn't really thought about anything else. Oh, wait!

"Yeah, you're right!" I say. "Next month's the HoverDerby on Kerwan. I spent the entire summer prepping for it and I almost forgot!"

This gives me two, maybe three weeks before it happens. I hope Clank and I have a couple of days to prep for it. At this rate I'd take nothing lower than third place overall, because two days with a piece of junk ship was all we needed.

"The HoverDerby, huh? Tell me more about it."

"From what I understand it's a multi-segmented compition. Clank knows all the details and the liabilities and stuff like that," I say carelessly.

Talwyn winces. "Liabilities?"

"Uh, yeah, like…getting injured! Minor injuries, like stubbing your foot. That's it. That's all we signed the contract for, heh!"

"Not! I bet there's something about death and/or dismemberment on there!"

"Well, since you mentioned it maybe I DO remember something like that…" She looks like she'd rather throw us in a padded room with stuffed animals. "Look Tal, if there's more than ten warnings regarding death I'll put on some floaties and an inner tube."

"You! Won't even! _Be swimming!_ " Talwyn shouts, playfully pushing me to the side. I try to get her back but she's already dodging, starting to run down the hallway. I dash after her. "Oh, no you don't!"

We chase each other through the hallways, laughing and trying to tag each other. "Slowpoke!" Talwyn calls over her shoulder; when I'm close enough I leap into the air and land directly on her back. "Oh! Ratchet—!"

The both of us tumble down to the floor, lying there for a moment. "I guess…this is a warm up, huh?" I ask.

"If it is, you're already breathing hard. I can help whip you back into sh…what…is that I feel vibrating?"

I now notice it too, though to Talwyn it probably seems way less innocent. "Oh shoot, that's my comm!" I'm under the impression it's been going off for at least the past few seconds. Talwyn looks at me curiously as I answer the call, pressing a hand to my right ear. "Yeah Clank?"

"Ratchet." The tone of his voice instantly makes me break out in a sweat. "I need you and Ms. Apogee to report to the security chamber this instant. Our prisoner…has gone missing."

It feels like my lungs collapse and I can't speak for a moment. Did…he just say…?

"What's the matter?" asks someone. Talwyn. She's gotten closer, her face near mine. I only stare at her blankly.

"Ratchet, you must snap out of it," Clank accurately predicts. "Please listen to me. You need come as soon as you can. As of right now, we do not know where he is in the station."

"…right." My voice is strangled. I shake my head and cut the call, standing up so fast Talwyn's neck cracks as she tilts her head back to follow me. "Right. Tal…come on. We've got to put off our time for another moment. It's Psyclops, he…escaped."

Talwyn lets out a slight gasp, turning pale. I take her by the hand, turning us both down the hallway, and draw the praetorian wrench. Every corner we come to I stop, first sticking my head out and clearing the hallway before we continue. My ears are so sensitive right now even Talwyn's slight panting is making them twitch slightly. Several anxious minutes later with no sign of anyone I stall, finally hearing two somethings long before I see them. _"Rangers!"_

Their steps accelerate a bit more until two of them come in view around a far corner. "Sarge, we just got word. Follow us, this way's clear!"

Our pair turns into a tense group of four, quickly backtracking the path that they'd made. My shock has started to wane, getting eclipsed by terror. How could we lose a prisoner that's hundreds of pounds? I don't know if that was worse than losing a petite space witch.

Soon minutes later we're bursting into the security room, "What's the status of the team overseeing the chamber?" I demand.

"They are all accounted for," Clank says. He's standing on the control panel between T34 and E-3. Qwark is huddled in a corner, and I'm guessing D07 is the one next to him trembling half as hard as he is. H22 uncrosses his arms as I walk up next to him, scanning the main monitor with my brows furrowed.

My fur stands on end. The view was located right outside the cryostasis chamber, showing five Rangers standing around. One's shaking his head and another holding his hands out in exasperation. I slide my eyes open to the doors, which were wide open. They didn't know where he was.

Psyclops was free. We lost him.

"…what happened?" I ask, breaking the tense silence.

"The Ranger monitoring the chamber called us earlier," T34 says. "He said he'd noticed a sharp decrease in gas pressure."

"They were concerned that it would have a…less than welcome effect on our prisoner, so they opened the doors to check his status…" E-3 says grimly. "Theoretically, it would have been alright to do so. Y'know…even with the pressure lowered, he should have still been in a deep sleep for a decent chunk of time."

"They didn't see him in there!" I say indignantly, already knowing where this was going. H22 shakes his head in disbelief. "The only thing they found was a hole the size of Metropolis itself."

I look at him, my brows sharply arched on my face. "He _dug_ himself out?"

"That's what it appears, Sarge. I don't know how in Sam's hell he did it, but there's no other way to look at this."

My expression twitches for a moment as I continue to stare at him. I turn my eyes back to the monitor and there's a weird twinge in the back of my head, like something's been knocked out of place slightly. I hit my hands against the panel roughly, turning myself around.

"I'm going to go in there and investigate. A1-S, initiate a station wide lockdown except for the cryostasis chamber," I hitch a bit as Clank locks himself onto me. "We're heading in."

"Sarge, mind me if you want, but I'd like to come too," H22 says seriously. "Have a nice even number of us goin' in there and he'll put up less of a tussle, you think?"

"It'd be a comforting thought. The eight of us should get work done." I do a brief headcount. Everyone who had the most property was in here. Good. Didn't have time to round anyone up. "D07. Stay and watch everyone in this room while we're gone. Is that understood?"

He's silent. For a moment I think he hasn't heard me.

"Kid, are you in there?" H22 asks. "'Ey! D07!"

"Yes sir, I copy," the rookie says. I can't quite tell what's on his mind because his tone is so ambiguous. It didn't sound like worry or doubt, which I really wouldn't want to hear now anyway.

"Speak now or forever withhold your peace, private," I say impatiently, walking for the door. "If there's something wrong then now's the good time to tell us."

"Don't be clammin' up now. I told you this awhile back, that things weren't always going to be peachy and you'd have to step out your comfort zone. I warned ya, didn't I?" H22 says.

"I understand my orders. I'll stand guard," D07 says frankly.

"'right then, that's more like it. Don't forget how to act just 'cause I'm not around, hear?"

I don't have to time be concerned if D07 will stick with it, but I didn't expect to have my hopes about his potential dashed when we came back. If we came back.

Talwyn's standing next to the door and by the look in her eye I already know what she's going to say. I merely shake my head, keeping my mouth in a tight line as I try to pass her. She catches me by shoulder.

"Ratchet, please."

"Tal… _no_. No way. _No way_ ," I say, turning to look her in the eyes. "Not this time. I need to know for sure you're safe while I'm out."

I try to pull away but she holds tight. "I want to go with you. I don't want a repeat of your first experience with him. I want to help," she says urgently.

" _Talwyn_ ," I say with weight in my voice. "I need you to work with me by staying out of the way this time. You don't know what he's like. You don't know what he'll do to you if he gets his hands on you," I narrow my eyes slightly. " _I_ do. And I don't want it to be reality."

She presses her lips together tightly then sighs a little, stepping back. "…alright Ratchet. Just be careful…"

"Bet on it," I say. After all, it wouldn't do me any good to die now, not with my girlfriend waiting on me. I raise my fist up to bump it to hers. She knocks my hand to the side and gathers me up in a hug, making it extra tight.

Then she lets go, almost jerking away, as if she was afraid she wouldn't let go. I turn away to leave. "And Clank," Talwyn adds, "you already know what to do."

"I will take care of him to my optimum ability, Ms. Apogee."

Seconds later I shoot out from the doors, using my hoverboots to streak through the hallways. As we go there's the massive sound of dozens of doors in the station locking themselves down tight, inaccessible until further notice.

It doesn't take us long to make it to the chamber. I hit the brakes, coming to a stop along with H22. "Let's get ready to roll in, folks. The state of alert is high and if we don't keep it that way, we'll be open to taking a shot to the crotch."

I can see the general area where the so-called hole was. There's a section in the middle of the chamber that's not lit, indicating that was where he'd broken through. I jolt a little in my skin when I hear sharp ding, and a beam of light shoots out from over my shoulder. "I think this will help," Clank says, referring to the rounded light now twittering next to my head.

"Well, shoot! Sure makes things easier, Clank! I forgot you even had that," I say, walking in a bit farther. Clank chuckles but he sounds sheepish, muttering something along the lines he'd forgotten too.

"Sarge, I've seen that thing," a Ranger says, shaking his head. "That hole's as big as the Grand Supernova Black Hole of Instant Death I saw back in '49."

"That doesn't even do it justice. It's like, a quadrillion times that big!" shouts another. They all start murmuring in agreement. I admit I thought they're being bit dramatic at first, but I'm proven completely wrong.

It's about twenty feet in diameter, a crude circle with metal puckering up at the edges. I accidentally kick something and look down. There's bits and pieces of metal lying around. I step closer, peering down the opening. Clank's high grade light pops up next to my head and even with that and straining my eyes I can still only see several yards downwards.

"Can you turn me, Ratchet?"

I do, so he can see. "Hm. I see an odd curvature down below. I believe that is where the depth of the hole ceases and it starts to level out horizontally."

"Into a tunnel, you mean? What room's below us if there is one, you know?"

"That I cannot seem to recall…I am sorry," he says, sounding upset.

"It's okay pal. Anyway it goes, we're gonna be walking on ice here," I face around; it seems that the Rangers had been having a hushed discussion in the background. Their huddle disperses and gravitates back to me. "H22? Got a protocol for descending shafts?" I ask.

"You mean climbing? Course, we'll do this the old fashioned way!" he says, prompting several mutters of agreement.

"Alright then, be careful and try to go down one by one, guys. Give us a second to go first," I tuck the praetorian wrench into the crutch of my right elbow. After finding a spot to latch onto I leap, ignoring the metal digging into my hands as I catch a hold of the wall. "Fall in," I call, starting to move down. "Not literally, if you can help it."

H22 is the first to lower himself down. I have _no_ clue how they can hang on with just one hand, but when I look up I see them moving down to varying parts of the hole. The diameter was big enough for all of us to take our own spots without worrying about falling on someone.

Yeah, I really didn't need someone coming down on my head now. The vague thought passes that I was supposed to be seeking out a doctor, but it had slipped my mind for the past week. Now was _definitely_ not the time to consider it.

I lower my head, trying to focus on where I'm putting my hands. The side of the shaft is rough, and with the light it's easy to see where I can find good hand holds. My feet slip once or twice.

That right there was a bit weird—the sides tended to go from irregular to smooth in some places. There were some moments where I have to shift to the side, searching for a better hold.

When bring this to Clank's attention he asks me if I'd seen Psyclops using an ability that let him melt things. I really can't say for sure, but it makes me wary because there may have been a ton of things I didn't know about the guy.

With an occasional idle conversation between two to three Rangers, we're a bit silent scaling down. Every now in again I would call, trying to track each of them. Sooner than I expect my feet have nothing else to hang onto.

I drop cautiously. It's a messy passageway that's too dark and long to see far. "This seems familiar."

"Eerily," Clank notes. I step forward to make room for the Rangers to join us. This tunnel looks like it angles downwards into a slope. We form a tight band, slowly taking the path. The entire time I strain my ears and watch carefully for any signs of Psyclops.

"…crap!" I hear one of the Rangers near me hiss; it looks like he's gotten his leg stuck in a gap in the floor. One of his cohorts has to help pull him out. "Ah! Damn holes…careful Sarge, if you fall into the one I just did, we'd lose you."

Random parts of the passage have spots along the walls and floor that have been gutted a bit. Did this guy have a thing for busting holes wherever he went? So destructive!

I step over a depression that's nearly hidden by the shadows, then slow my pace. The end of the tunnel is just approaching, judging by the slightly orange tint I can see several yards ahead coming from below.

But that's not why I've slowed down. There's this weird scent here. I think it's been in our surroundings the entire time and I just noticed it. It's…everywhere, but it's faint. Familiar.

I remember now.

It was last week, when we were running from Psyclops in the dark. I remember randomly catching the same whiff. One that smelled like meat cooking, with a slight touch of iron. I don't know what's more bothersome, the fact the smell's here in the first place or it's actually starting to make my mouth water a bit.

I tune back into reality, speeding up to the new point of interest. To my complete lack of surprise it's another hole that, when I lean over it, shows a stretch of arid savannah with reddish dirt, trees and shrubs. A terrarium.

"Formation." The Rangers shuffle themselves in order behind me. I jump over the gap, spreading my limbs out. My backup jumps after me in pairs, all of us taking a several hundred foot HALO jump downwards.

Clank softens my descent, and I land in a slight squat on the dusty ground. The artificial wind blows, stirring up the dry dirt around our feet. I've been in this terrarium once or twice before because I liked the setting, but this time something feels off.

Might be this smell that's _still here_. I inhale a bit, letting the air particles roll past my tongue. That way, through that thicket? It's where the scent is trailing from. Maybe that was where we could start? "North-Northwest. Directly through the brush," I say. I know they wouldn't, but I'm secretly hoping no one would wonder how exactly I came to that conclusion.

Oh, it's because of this smell that reminds me of a summer cookout, is all. Yeah, that's…not going to sound too reliable.

We force our way through, pushing a path over dry vegetation and ducking under trees. I find myself getting more excited. There's a pleasant tingling in my nose, partially from the dust in the air and the tender smell. It's strangely alluring for some reason.

Wait, I've lost the scent for a moment. I do a three sixty on the spot, keeping my head held up high to track it again.

Over to the left…maybe to the right a bit, around that tree? No, back left. Yes! There it was again. I stir up some dirt, scraping a line on the ground with the heel of my boot to mark the spot on the ground.

My head whips around suddenly and I go still, looking sharply through the undergrowth. Is someone watching us? It kinda feels like it. My spine prickles as I glance around, half expecting to see Psyclops' eye looking back at me. Or not.

Hmm…no. Maybe not so. Not him. Something different maybe. But not him.

I ease up, glancing over. The entire squad's staring a bit awkwardly. "Uh...you alright there, Sarge?" asks H22.

"Uh, yeah. Bear with me for a moment, guys." I relax my body, seeking my concentration medium. Something feels clearer now.

From the fern like leaves gently swaying to the tree branches lightly dipping down in the wind, everything seems to slow down. Sounds become sharper, and sights are ripened.

I close my eyes, focusing until feels like I'm hanging suspended in space and everything but mere presence has vanished. I can feel the positions of Rangers.

The closest one is over my shoulder, H22 probably. One behind me on the opposite side. Two are to my back left. Another one out to the right, close to the tree cover. The last is the farthest away, taking up the rear. Clank is where he's supposed to be, but…

I can't sense any other's presence. At least…not in the immediate vicinity.

I can still smell, almost taste the scent on the back of my throat. Without opening my eyes I move forward, keeping my ears up high.

Even though I can't see, I'm no longer worried. Right now it doesn't feel like there's anything more important than to let my instincts guide me. I had them for a reason, and they'd never lie. I start a blind trek leading our group through the terrarium.

Occasionally I would stop to double check the trail we were on and confirm we were making some sort of progress, but I grow progressively frustrated. It still feels like I'm missing the biggest punchline to the most obvious joke ever.

We've exited the woody part by now and transitioned to a quarry-like area. Careful not to fall into pits that are up to ten feet deep, we hike downwards. The trail's going a bit faint. I follow it to an overhang, peering over the edge. It's hard to tell with all the trees, but I think the ground's at least several dozen feet below.

"H22, take the squad down and scout ahead. I'll look around this area a bit more and join you," I say.

"Understood, sir." They all drop over the edge of the cliff face, hovering down. I stand back patiently, waiting for the last of the Rangers to lower from sight.

When we're by ourselves I throw myself down into a squat, lowering my face to the ground. I start sniffing around frantically, crawling around on all fours for a moment. "Why, why why why?!" I say frantically under my breath; Clank turns his head quizzically. "What is the matter?"

"Clank, this might smell weird—sound, I mean _sound_ weird, but there's this scent I've been trailing for a while! Remember how I took us off the path and did like, five circles and two u-turns when we were in the forest part?"

"Yes. The Rangers must have extended patience to not question that," Clank says with a laugh. "I was wondering if your internal tracking system was faulty."

"That's not too far off from the truth. I don't know if I'm leading us to our dead ends or not," I take in one last deep breath then pop my head up, looking around incredulously. "Implying that we had any decent leads in the first place. Hey, remember when we went to that party at Al's several months ago and he tossed that steak on the grill? That's what it smells like."

"Are you saying Al has been an associate to Psyclops' escape?"

"No, not—" I give him a sarcastic glance. "No, ya goof…"

Clank chuckles. "I jest. That is strange, however, and I have no way of confirming your method of tracking."

"Yeah, you're kinda missing out a bit…the smell is making me hungry," I stand up, brushing dirt off myself. I'm tempted to get down and start sniffing the area out again.

…uh, I'm sure it won't hurt another time. I get down on my knees. Besides, this was an official investigation. Nothing less.

I press my face near the ground. Just to make sure I was right. I mean, it'd be for no other reason. The dirt has a nice gritty feel to it.

And that earthy smell…it reminds me a bit of home. Veldin's dirt wasn't as moisturized as this was, which I prefer. Does dirt therapy exist? It needs to. Or maybe dirt baths.

I lower my shoulder into the ground, rocking between my front and side several times. I can't do a full roll because Clank wouldn't appreciate that, but I want to. I press my heels into the ground, sliding along the ground. Argh! This smell was making me anxious! Why does something so foreign have to be so good?

"Ratchet, what on earth has gotten into you?" asks Clank.

"I've got issues, dude," I say loudly, even as I rub my face along the ground. "Clank, what's wrong with me? What's going on? Who am I? Why am I so hungry?!"

"I cannot not answer existential questions with viable accuracy, but I assure that you are acting more eccentric than usual."

"Hey, Sarge?" H22 says, coming up over the side of the cliff. I freeze. "We found somethin' down here that you need to see. Might need a little bit of your investigation."

He leaves. I'm still stuck with my lower half in the air and my face on the ground, gaping at where he disappeared. "Heh… _heh heh heh heh_ ," Clank chuckles. "Well, you heard him. They need you and your _peculiar_ intuition."

When I hover down to the others, I'm sure I didn't need my intuition to figure out what I was seeing. There's a section, hidden from up above by the trees, that's been gutted several yards deep. Underneath it was the metal floor of the terrarium, tinted yellow and pulled down into another hole around the same size of one we found in the cryostasis chamber. "Did this guy seriously…" I wonder, staring. He sure went the extra mile.

"He has not been very subtle with his escape route, has he?" asks Clank, amused.

"Yeah…lucky us." I lean down a bit farther. All the way down I can see a circle of light. Looks like we were going down even farther.

* * *

I fall, catching myself on the edge of the hole and look around. We're in a wide rectangular chamber with a huge, wall-sized pair of sliding doors at the end. "Clear," Clank states almost immediately.

"Likewise. Drop in!" I let go, landing onto the floor with a hollow thump. "Looks like we made it into the airlock…"

This place isn't that big, yet there's still not a clear sign of Psyclops. While the troupe fans out and start searching different areas of the room, I lurk more towards the disposal doors.

 _Ehhnnnnnh._

"Hm?" I glance up at the buzzing noise. Then I'm suddenly distracted by the tightness swelling in my chest. The air's thinner down here. I activate my O2 mask.

"I do believe our prisoner ejected himself," Clank says, jumping down and looking around. "But I would think that he needed to manually operate the airlock. Stimulate the change in pressure and let the doors open, you see."

"So how is he not down here waiting to slaughter us?"

"That, I am unsure of. And I recommend you keep that mask on in the meanwhile, Ratchet. It seems the walls of Ms. Apogee's airlock are very thin."

"You think he took advantage of that and forced his way out?" I glance up, distracted by the low droning coming from an indeterminant location. "You saw how he came into the hangar, and I'm sure those doors are thicker than these here."

Clank taps his chin for a moment, staring thoughtfully. "Hmm…that would be plausible. He had to have left marks. Something, where he pried them apart. I wonder…"

He moves forward. Clank looks so small, getting closer to the doors. What if they malfunctioned somehow? Only several slabs of metal stopping him from being sucked out into space…

I cross the distance between us in two bounds, cutting him off. "Oh whoa there buddy, I think if there was something here to see, we'd see it by now."

"But what if there is a small clue hidden here?"

I peep out the door, then shake my head. "Nah, nope! I'm pretty sure my eyesight's better than yours, Clank, and I don't see nothing."

"Which means you see something."

Him and his technicalities! I'm sputtering to find another excuse when he stops suddenly, like he's realized something.

"Ratchet, I think I may know how he escaped. This may be a theory, but Ms. Apogee's airlock may automatically respond when it detects an abnormal amount of weight within it. And, to decrease the likelihood of a clog, releases that weight without manual input."

"He is a fat sack of flesh and metal," I shout. "That's how, then, Clank! I can't believe we lost him like this…" I sigh, clenching my teeth slightly. There was no way to salvage this situation now. I almost can't stand the fact that big punk outsmarted us.

I suddenly hear a distant grinding noise, and start getting a really bad feeling for some reason.

"Clank…what do you think the weight limit is?"

He looks like he's thinking the same thing I am. "I really am not sure…making a guess on the volume of the entire airlock, I consider maybe three, maybe four tons to be max weight."

My head starts to swim, and I turn around as the Rangers walk up to meet us. "H22, do you know how much each of you weigh? On average?"

"I'd say…maybe three quarters of a ton. At least."

Six…of them weighing that much. I'm too nervous to try to make that calculation. But looking at Clank, who seems to have the least reassuring the face now, tells me all I need to know.

We suddenly feel a huge hum, a thrumming under our feet that sounds like a giant bee buzzing tis wings.

 _Shit._

"Back—back, _everyone, move back!_ " I snatch Clank up, all of us making a run for it; a voice, mechanical in nature, echoes overhead.

 _"Maximum weight detected near dorsal side of airlock chamber. Automatic disposal function enabled. Goodbye!"_

As I sprint forward I already know there's no use. I slam my hands onto the entrance to the airlock, but it doesn't open. It won't open because of the station wide lockdown. I can hear the disposal hatches behind us starting to grind apart and turn, pressing my back against the door.

"Ah, Clank, that teleport device? _Please_ tell me you can work a miracle right now."

"I cannot, Ratchet…it does not possess the power to get us all to safety, let alone in one piece…"

We were going to get shot out the airlock. Normally it wouldn't be that bad because we had communications and could get the others to round us up before we drifted too far into space. But getting sucked out, traveling at high velocity and smashing into an energy barrier? Not much we could do about that in time.

 _"Psst!"_

One Ranger sharply nudges another. The whole group then seems to move by an unspoken command, quickly forming a line in front of us. Someone snatches me by the collar.

I let out a shout when I unexpectedly get hurtled upwards, everything becoming a blur as I spin in a flip midair. I reach my free hand up out of instinct and catch ahold of something. When I blink several times and reorient I discover I've grabbed ahold of the bottom of the hole.

"Atta boy, Sarge!"

I turn my head down; H22 is looking up, lowering his arm. "Hey, hang on. This could get ugly."

My eyes widen. _No._

"Can't you make it up here?" I shout below. He gives a sorry shrug, glancing down the far end of the room. "Wish I could say yes."

The pressure's starting to increase. "Ratchet, lift me onto your shoulders. I will hang on!" Clank says, and I quickly do that. "You need both hands!"

It's not a moment later. As soon as I throw my other hand up, I don't have to see that the airlock was fully open. The force of the suction skyrockets, straining my body; I hang on tightly, anchoring my fingers deep into the jagged edges of the hole. Clank has his arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

"Clank, if you feel like you're going to lose your grip, grab ahold of my freaking ears if you have to," I struggle to look down past my chin, seeing what was becoming of my troupe.

"Oooooohhh—!" A Ranger cries, his sliding grip on the ground lost. "I hope my mother's proud of meeeee…..!" He gets sucked backward out the hatch. The others clutch to walls and the floor. There's metallic, scraping noises their fingers make as they're dragged back on the surface they've latched onto. The tug of war with space is too much for them and they, one by one, get pulled out. Just…in the blink of an eye…

"Oh, dear…" Clank utters.

My own hands are starting to slip a bit but I'll be damned if I let go now. Soon the only one left is H22, who's clenching hard into the floor and making a terrible piercing noise as he gets pulled back. I wince, lowering my ears. "H22, just keep hanging on!" I yell, like that hasn't occurred to him by now.

"If he can manage to hold his position until the doors shut, he will be spared!" Clank says. "But I do not know the duration of the disposal process."

"Sarge!" H22 calls, raising his head up. "Can you…listen to me for a moment? I think it's game over for me. Do you think you could send your old pal off by doing me a favor?"

"No! Because you're gonna make it and I won't hafta send you nowhere!"

"Give that rookie my position!"

"… _what?!_ " Clank and I both shout.

"I promise I'm not crazy, but I'm tellin' you! He needs this. And you won't be disappointed with the decision!"

I suddenly become very angry. "Did you come along because you knew you probably weren't coming back?!"

He doesn't answer. He just can't fight the sheer amount of force on him. He's yanked from his grip, sailing back for a moment before his hand catches on the edges of the airlock's doors. I can see his fingers starting to slip.

 _"Airlock disposal complete. Shutting cavity doors."_

H22 manages to raise his gun, putting it to his temple. There's several layers of doors forming the disposal hatch. One by one, starting from the outside and going in, they start shutting themselves. The second to last door crushes his lower body and the final one shuts over him with a crunch, separating his arm and making it drop to the floor.

The vacuum's stopped now. Gravity is restored to normal on the inside. I'm left hanging limp, staring blankly ahead. I feel hollow.

My hands let go and I fall, dropping to the floor on my knees.

* * *

I'm numb the entire way back up. The lack of feeling anything after that disaster concerns me, but only faintly. I guess I'm still stunned.

I'll have to report what happened to everybody else, but I really don't think I'm mentally ready for that talk now without sounding like I was half dead.

"Where's that gas room? Is it near the chamber?" I ask tiredly. I'd at least need to have some clarity on that matter. Clank nods. I alter our path a bit, going to find the elevator to get to the top floor.

Two Rangers intercept us on the way there. "What happened, Sarge? Didja guys find him?" asks one.

The question slides off me and I walk in between them, feeling like I was uprooting my feet from the ground with each step. "Call everybody to the meeting room on the second floor. Wait there."

"Uh…yes sir, will do…"

We leave the confused pair behind. Clank gently guides me to the control room of the cryostasis chamber. I stop for a minute at the panel. Over it is a screen showing gas gauges. The bars are hovering low, nearly at the bottom.

Stepping into nearby teleporter takes us into a bigger room. There's rows of large, ceiling high tanks. It's extremely cool and drafty in here. "Whoa…" I mutter, feeling myself starting to fade out slightly. I lean against one of the tanks, trying to stay awake. "Is there a…leak in here, or something?"

"Sarge, that you?" someone out of sight calls. "Hey, unless you got your oxygen mask, I wouldn't be in here. We got an outflow from several of these here tanks!"

When I get that situated, it still takes me a moment to get over the feeling of vertigo. "Who's that down there?" I ask. A Ranger pops into view, several yards down. "Ranger G12, sir. I think you should see this."

We follow and there's another Ranger in that row with him, bent over at the back of the wall. "I was the one who was moderating the gas chamber," G12 says. "I saw the pressure lowering and knew I hadn't done anything. When I came to investigate I saw that some of the tanks in here, well…"

He looks around then points down at one. There's a long, claw-like gash near the bottom of it.

"How many did you find like this?" I ask.

"As of my recent check, half of what's here. That's at _least_ around several dozen of these tanks you see," he says. "Then again, that's taking damage I can immediately detect into account. Some of the gashes I've spotted are so slim I'd missed them the first or second time I'd looked. They're subtle but _deep,_ that's the issue here."

"And that's not all," the Ranger at the wall speaks. The white dot under his serial tag pops out when he turns around.

"I think there's something way outta line happening here, Sarge," WD-1 says seriously. "I came up here to be on standby in case you needed me, but G12 here asked me to investigate something else he found suspicious."

The doctor stands to the side, showing the part of the wall he'd been pouring over. "Another hole," I say blankly. This one's pathetically small compared to the others we'd seen today. I don't think Clank could fit through.

"Another one?" WD-1 questions.

"I'll explain later," I kneel, silently studying it. Something's starting to come to me. Something that's immediately weighted when I catch something.

That smell.

That very same one I caught earlier in the tunnel, in terrarium, was here. Sifting off the from this random spot on the wall.

Both the logical and irrational part of my brain are for once, resonating on a single notion. I don't want to consider it but at this point, I have to.

That maybe, there was something lurking here in the Station that didn't belong.

* * *

"I need a high state of security for the Apogee Space Station. Given what's happened, it's become apparent that Psyclops is a lot craftier than we thought."

I take in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. "As of now, it's not even clear _when_ he went missing. We only saw the signs of his departure today. But it's likely reasonable for us to say that he's out of our clutches for good."

The shock hasn't seemed to settle yet from something so unexpected. There's a lot of restless fidgeting and uneasy glances getting thrown around. D07 has me concerned. He's been sitting still with his head bowed the entire time.

"I wish it didn't have to happen. We ended up in the wrong place at the worst time possible…and didn't know what the consequences would be," I say. "There's nothing we can do now he's gone. What's left is the investigation so we can try to figure out _how_ this happened. There were a handful of clues that we found along the way."

I back away with my hands behind my back and start pacing. "When we were in the terrariums today, my gut feeling was telling me that something was… _off_. I couldn't say what caused it, nor say that the feeling was misplaced. On a more grounded note, we discovered that the gas room had been vandalized by something that's clearly not one of us. I found that suspicious. It suddenly makes the idea of the power outage from last week seem a lot less innocent."

I stop pacing and look to the side in thought, agitatedly swishing my tail behind me.

"And if mysterious things keep happening and we keep finding things the way they're not supposed to be, that makes me think we do have someone—or something that's in here with us that's managed to stay under our radar. And maybe…maybe our prisoner didn't escape by himself," I say, my voice dragging with hesitance. "Maybe he had help."

I expect the silence that follows. Talwyn is staring at the table, anxiety in her eyes. I'm sure it's more from our close call than the thought of something else lurking around in her house. The Rangers still seem restless. Maybe they had no reason to listen to me at all, after what I'd led part of their platoon into.

I glance at Clank, who's wearing an unhappy expression. His shoulders rise and fall. _I do not know,_ he seems to say.

To my surprise, Qwark is the first to speak. "Um…while we're on the topic?"

"What's up, big guy?"

"Now that you mention things being all…weird in the gut for you, I've kinda been getting the same vibe. Y'see, D07 and I were out around midnight several nights ago making some ants on a log and we started hearing these noises. They sounded like they were coming from the room over."

"I told the Captain to stay there for a second while I went to investigate," D07 says. It breaks my heart to hear how solemn he is. "The room next door was a bathroom. No one was in there, but I know I heard something…we weren't sure what to make of it."

"What type of noises did they sound like?" asks Clank.

"Kind of like what you'd hear if you were hitting brass pipes underwater," Qwark says.

"To me…it also sounded like they were coming from _inside_ the wall at some points," D07 adds, drawing a finger along his face thoughtfully. "I did a x-ray scan but couldn't seem to detect anything. By that time anyway, the sounds…they'd stopped."

"Couldn't that be the plumbing acting up? That could be fixed with a quick call to the right person," says Talwyn.

"Think that if you want," Qwark says offhandedly, "but I wouldn't hop to that conclusion after what we just heard. Don't know about any of you _other_ guys, but I'm not fond of not knowing how safe I really am. And trust, I've already gotten a clear taste of that."

My lips part slightly in moderate surprise. This was one of his rare moments where he _got_ it.

"Qwark is accurate. It is now important to notify us of anything that seems suspicious," Clank says. "We have a security system that is being monitored around the clock, but I no longer think that is an excuse to be relaxed."

"On a related note, I'm extending outward patrols routes to run into all terrariums as well. They need to be checked at least twice a week. There are no cameras there, which makes it perfect for things to camp out there undetected," I say. There's a bit of hesitance before I speak, and I do so with finality in my voice.

"And…one last thing. As of today…I'm placing D07 at the head of the platoon."

If I hadn't gotten crazy looks before, I sure was now. Clank is the only one who doesn't seem moments from having his eyes pop out of his head. D07 looks at me, slowly. "…me, sir?"

"Yes," I say. "All Rangers are to report to you as their superior. You're in command when I'm not around," then to the entire room I add, "Are there any objections?"

Everyone looks like they're avoiding looking at each other. Someone gives a low, almost-missed sigh. I easily track the noise to a Ranger nearly on the other end of the long table, half hidden behind one of his cohorts. "War Doctor, who's that sitting to your right?"

"Private F54, sir."

WD-1 shifts back in his chair and exposed Ranger raises his head up quickly, balking when I step to the side to look at him directly. "F54, is there anything you need to say?" I ask plainly.

He straightens with a bit of resolve, though he still fiddles with his fingers. "Okay, it's just…well Sarge, do you think that's the…smar—b-best idea? I mean no disrespect…but he's one of the newer additions with not a lot to his name. How can you be sure that he'll do what's required of him to an optimum level?"

He falls quiet, shrinking. Another Ranger from my near left feels bold and adds, "I think the question we're all wondering, is…don't you want someone with more experience?"

" _No._ "

It seems everyone becomes locked in time, ceasing to move. I move my eyes across the room slowly. "I've already decided, _and it stands_. He is going to be the new leader of the platoon. And everyone is to treat him like he is nothing less. _Is that clear?_ "

A chorus of muttered conformations come in a wave. It's hard to see how uncertain they are about the decision. There was no chance of me ever revealing I made it with my heart instead of my mind.

Desperate to see some type of acceptance, I look at D07. As soon as I do, he lowers and raises his head in a firm nod. I'm not sure what it is, but there already seems to be a slightly different look to him. It feels inexplicably right to trust H22's judgement and that was what matters the most. He clearly had known something I didn't.

The corners of my mouth shrink in. Now was not the time for someone to be questioning my decisions. The others would come around sooner or later.

"I'm done speaking for now," I say a bit roughly. "If someone has something to say, now's your time…. nothing? Then the meeting's adjourned. Take ten before resuming your duties. Dismissed."

I stare down the table, unmoving as the platoon gets up, filing out around me and talking in hushed voices. I force myself to not listen too hard. It's not long before I can feel someone standing somewhere behind me. I don't have to look to see that it's D07.

"He always told me to expect the worse and prepare for it the best you can. I guess…this is what he was talking about."

The tone of his voice gives me chills. "Do you think he knew something like this would happen?" I mutter.

"I think so. Maybe he was waiting for something like this. I learned a lot from H22. I didn't understand why he was being so hard on me, but I think I've been forced to see it now. I think…he'd been planning to let me take his position when the time came. I didn't ever imagine I'd be put in a position like this, so quickly. Y-You know with me, uncertainty is always knocking. I'll do what I need to do, but…it doesn't take the feelings away."

 _I'm scared._

With a sigh, I turn to face him. "Saying this isn't easy, but it's the truth. Those feelings will leave in due time. But you've got to make the conscious effort to be strong when times are hard. That's how you mature. It won't make you impervious to what comes in the future, but you'll be able to handle a lot more. You need to find your reason to grow and stick with it."

"That's…what someone else told me. Not word for word, but the message was the same."

He looks off. I can't read anything from him for a moment. D07 turns his head back to me slowly, drawing a finger alongside his head. Then, out of the blue he asks, "I have a question. Does this resonate with you in any way?"

The question comes from him so blunt, so uncharacteristically forward it catches me right in the stomach. "In…what way? Losing someone dear to me, or losing my mentor? I can tell you both," I glance over, watching Clank as he talks to Talwyn and Qwark. "…though one of them wasn't so permanent."

"I guess anyway it goes, it's about accepting things and moving on the best you can," D07 mutters. It connects, wondrously, what vibe he's been emanating. It's flat-out resignation, something admittedly I wouldn't expect from someone like him so… _quickly._

"I do have to wonder though, Sarge. Why'd you choose me?"

I look away.

"I mean…I thought it would go to someone else, even if I had been trained on the low for it. Was it…did…?" he falls quiet, noticing my lack of response. "Um…please, Sarge…"

"…you really want to know," I say quietly.

He nods.

"It was his last request."

He doesn't move for a moment, standing slightly off-kilter with his hand on his serial tag. "…I see," he says. I immediately regret even telling him.

"D07—" I try, but he shakes his head. "I'll-I'll be alright, Sarge. I just need some time to think. Thanks again for trusting me with this."

The new commander in chief leaves out the room and I watch after him, stunned. That may have been one of the most thoughtless things I've ever done. All I can think about now is how I'd react if someone told me something like that. I clench a hand to my chest, exhaling.

My heart is hurting too much. I need to get away from this.

I leave out the room unnoticed, passing through the slight gaggle of Rangers outside that hadn't quite dispersed, and walk along down the hallways until I'm by myself. I want to go somewhere dark and quiet.

* * *

I park myself down in front of the aquarium, groaning as I roll over to my back. Some of the fish stop swimming for a moment, looking in my direction.

"Yeah, hey guys. Remember me?" I rub my head with my hands, then go back to my previous habit of watching. The way they dart and weave around each other, gliding through the water…it helps me briefly forget my problems.

I lie there for a while, exhausted. Several times I fade in an out of consciousness but for the most part I lie awake, occasionally shifting positions on the floor. Unbelievable. Countless hours of staying awake and I can't take a nap.

By a bored impulse I pat around my body until I feel my pocket watch. "Hey, Dad…hey, General…"

Hmm…I'm sure Alister would have some words for me if he saw me like this. I shut my eyes, trying to picture him standing over me. Arms folded maybe. Wearing a frown that shrouds his face in displeasure.

 _"Oh, get up! You're better than this! Stop moping around when you could be doing something more worthwhile!"_

"…easier said than done," I mutter, keeping my eyes shut.

 _"Pfah! Look at you, you're wasting time. You mustn't let yourself fall apart like this. Your mental strength is fading away faster than ever and you're simply_ allowing _this? You need to fight it, Ratchet."_

"It's hard."

 _"I won't fault you there. I know it is. But if you lose yourself now, there's no going back."_

A cold draft settles on my neck, and I shudder at the words.

"No…going back? What do you mean?"

 _"You saw what happened to me. I had failed to curb my self-sufficient desires and was forced to turn the consequences of my actions onto myself."_

"Are you suggesting I'm not thinking about other people?"

 _"No. But if you jump to that conclusion, what does that mean you think of yourself?"_

I don't have an answer to that for some reason, and don't even want to think of one. I grunt, closing the pocket watch. "Alright, show's over."

 _"Ratchet."_

Or not. "Yes, General?"

 _"Behind you."_

I roll to my back, swiveling my head around.

 _"Oh, forgive me—wrong direction. Look to the front!"_

"Mind playing games," I mutter. In the entire tank that previously held hundreds of fish there's suddenly only one. It's white with red stripes and mustard colored eyes. I stare blankly at it. "…yep! Definitely so."

 _"I'm very much real. Come closer and you'll see,"_ the fish says, still speaking with Alister's voice

"All I wanna know is why you exist in the first place. Seriously, Alister as a fish? That's so messed up. I can't believe you expect me to think you're real."

 _"Then why have you come closer?"_

"What the—?!" I'm suddenly startled to see I'm right up on the tank. What? I glare at the grinning creature on the other side. "What's your problem? How'd you do that?"

 _"I am unable to physically affect you. Besides, you are partially responsible for calling_ me _forth like this,"_ it says. _"Are you going to listen to what I have to say?"_

"And who are you, again?"

 _"You don't recognize me?"_

"You're _not_ Alister."

The ends of the fish's mouth curve up in a smile and its little pointed teeth gleam. _"Explain why you are in here by yourself. Clarity between us seems as muddled as the backwaters of Oozla."_

"Let's keep it that way," I drawl. "Why would a figment of my imagination even care about something like this?"

 _"The truth is all encompassing, yet you still trample and shun it in your thoughtless pursuit for understanding."_

"Speak English or else I'll smash that tank open and bite you in half."

 _"Why, I think we both know you're not in here just to rest. You can fool the others, but not I. There's no gain in lying to yourself."_

"Who ever said I—I didn't ask for your opinion!" I snap, annoyed at how flustered I've gotten. "And stop talking to me like you know me. You don't know _anything_ about me!"

 _"I know it's hard to get you to listen to reason at times. That is blatant as Solana's sun itself. You may get yourself into trouble if you're not careful."_

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," I turn around to leave.

 _"Where are you going?"_

"Where does it look? Away from you," I mutter. "I don't even know why I'm entertaining this…this, what _ever_ you are. You're not even real. And…neither is anything of what you're saying."

 _"I don't have to be tangible to be genuine."_

 _"Shut it!_ Stop talking to me!" I snarl over my shoulder. Its voice seems to get clearer, more agitating the farther I walk away. _"You mustn't make things harder than what they are. I share your pain but I am trying to offer condolences. Yet if you fail to see this, continuing to walk in fear of being judged by your associates."_

I stop sharply, as if its words hooked onto me, and wheel around. "Don't. _Even._ "

The apparition with Alister's voice gives a tired sigh. It makes me twitch with recollection, several snapshots of memories flitting through my mind. That was a sound I heard on more than one occasion from the General when he was still alive.

"And stop trying to lecture me!" I snap suddenly, starting to see red. "How _dare_ you. You're not even worthy of Alister's visage."

 _"I am not worthy?"_ It asks, making a stroking movement under its 'chin' with one of its fins. _"I wasn't aware I mimicked the identity of a saint."_

I'm so furious I don't know what to say for a second.

 _"You have done nothing but find temporary solutions to your conflicts. It appears that you are being undependable in your current setting. Not out of malice, but of indecisiveness. Even aware of this, you…"_

The longer I stayed here the more this was getting to me. I silently try to cool myself down, but I find it hard to just turn around and walk away. The Alister-fish is now floating silently in the waving vegetation in the bottom of the tank. That, with the blank look in its eyes makes it look…dead.

I back away, feeling my heart starting to rev up. I feel fear suddenly.

" _Bury me, kill me_ ," it speaks neutrally. " _Or preserve, heal me_."

The room looks like it's suddenly submerged in water and everything is all wavy. There's a low warbling in my ears that sounds like a mixture of voices of my friends, memories from the past mixed in…

It's not like I black out, but there's a lapse in memory with everything in between fuzzy and unclear. I blink, finding myself in an odd position. I'm down on my elbows and knees. My hands are up, resting on the top of my head.

My head…I groan, rubbing my face along the ground. It hadn't hurt this much since I got blown up a week ago. I carefully look up and even the strain of moving my eyes hurts. The tank's back full of fish, all of them going along casually. No sign of whatever that just was. I drop my head in my hands, taking in several shaking breaths.

I must've hallucinated all of that. I don't know why or how. All I know is that I wanted to get out of here, right now. My head's still spinning as I stand up shakily, almost tripping as I hurry to leave.

When I'm at the door I turn my profile, almost convinced I see the dark figure of a Lombax standing silhouetted against the tank. I shudder, running out.

"You're not really there…"

* * *

In about thirty minutes I approach the meeting room, still a bit shaken. I distinctly hear Talwyn's voice as I come closer and stop before going in, taking a moment to collect myself. When I'm sure I can go in without looking pale I enter, rubbing my hands over my face. "Hey Tal, have we received any messages from the…"

I suddenly realize I'm talking over her, and the both of us stop at the same time. She turns around holding several papers, astonished. I've walked into a crowded room. Clank and Qwark are sitting near the end of the table. Along with them though, there's two others.

One of them looks like a teenage girl native to Rilgar with pigtails tied up in a royal blue bow, and even then her hair falls down past her chair. The other visitor is a Cazar with so many sequins on his jacket he looks like a living disco ball.

Then there's about a dozen heavily armed combat droids lurking on the back half of the table. Are they playing charades?

I walk up to Talwyn slowly, cutting my eyes around at the new arrivals. "Who are these people?" I mutter.

Lieutenant Metnic slides out from the other side of my girlfriend, grinning.

"They're _my_ people, Ratchet. It'll be a pleasure for you to meet them."

I recoil, startled and almost offended to see her here. " _Metnic?_ "

"That's Lieutenant Metnic young man, I earned my right to that title. And as for your late…arrival to this very important meeting, there's no need to apologize. I'm sure there's nothing that you don't know that's been said, hmm?" She nods her head behind me. "But I think I'd have to thank you. The Captain's paying attention now."

I turn around. As soon as the Cazar at the table sees my face his eyes get a distant look to them, then lower halfway. _"…hey_ ," he says.

I'm struck with suspicion. If the Polaris Defense Force was here…did they know something? Talwyn takes me by the arm and tugs me around to the door.

"Pardon us for a moment, please!" she calls over to her shoulder sweetly. The second we're down the hallway Talwyn pulls me over to the side, lowering her voice. "Ratchet, where have you been? You just vanished into thin air, and we got a bit worried."

"I was on break…" I say.

"I figured you were somewhere to cool off, but…I was just concerned about you after what happened earlier."

"I'm fi—" I choke, nearly retching on the lie. "…fine."

Talwyn stares at me long and hard. "It…doesn't sound like it," she deadpans.

"I think I just screwed my schedule by taking too much time off."

"Five hours, to be exact. I personally thought it wasn't enough."

"…what," I ask, shocked. "Did you say five hours? I didn't even realize…"

"Didn't you sleep?"

"I…laid down," I say lamely.

"Oh, Ratchet. You sound out of it," she says. "Listen to me. You don't have to be here for this meeting. I want you to get some rest from work."

"I'd just be doing what I just did. I'd get restless after too much more of that." That goes without mentioning the complete circus show my imagination had drug me though. "Tal, I think at this point I'll just go with the flow."

Talwyn hums in response, tilting her head to the side. "Well sweetie, if you're going to ride this out, I have a suggestion. Try to stay patient. They're here to do a brief grounds check and see our defenses and the like."

"Hmm…you don't think they're suspicious of anything in _particular_ , do you?"

"That I'm kind of torn on. Metnic said last week she'd send over a representative, remember?" Talwyn says, glancing over her shoulder. "But the timing is really suspicious. A full seven days of no one coming over, then you show up with the frontlines?"

"Are those two other officers above her?" I ask. "If so…I think it's about time as ever for me to start breaking some news, anyway. We've got a maniac on the loose in the galaxy and it's no longer an issue we can take by ourselves."

"They're both her senior, yes. Though as a fair warning, they're a bit colorful."

When we go in Metnic is standing at the head of the table, spouting off something from the papers she's holding. Qwark has his head propped up on his fist, disinterestedly drawing a finger on the table. The girl with long hair seems spaced out, her mouth slightly open as she listens. The Cazar has gone back to his initial position, leaned back in his seat and into his Holo-pad with his legs kicked up on the table.

Clank shocks me. It wasn't him to be impolite, blatantly so, but he's staring straight ahead at the wall and not even looking at Metnic. Wow, moment of the century here—when you bore _Clank_ with your lectures you know you suck at keeping anyone's attention.

The Lieutenant turns as we walk in. "Back again, I see! Ratchet, if you don't mind, let my partners introduce themselves. Ahem…General?"

The girl blinks one eye slower than the other then perks, looking around. "Huh? Me first? M'kay," When she stands up in her chair she doesn't get any taller. "I'm General Regina, one of the super duper important heads of the Polaris Defense Force, and the leader of this unit. I love getting all the perks for being a high-functioning member of society, but I also don't mind cutting throats if the biz wants me too!"

She pauses, then adds, "I like your nose."

That's creepy. "Uh, thanks," I say.

"And this is…oh, are you kidding?" She slides over, grabbing the third member by the arm and shaking. "Hey! Heeey, I know you hear me! We've got someone else for you to meet! Stop being antisocial and make a good first impression!"

It's like she's not even there and he doesn't budge an inch. I watch with a blank face, unimpressed.

"Patience," Talwyn says undertone.

"Hey, I have said nothing, Tal. In fact, I'm going into this as lax as possible," I say evenly. "Because nothing should really surprise me anymore. That includes the fact that the highest-ranking officer here looks like she hasn't graduated high school yet."

"To be fair, you look like you haven't either."

"Wh…wooow, okay," I groan. "At least my frontal lobe is developed. I think."

"Come on, don't be cranky if you're gonna hang around. You had your chance. They're all the help we've got, anyway."

I'm not sure if she realizes how depressing that sounds. We watch as Regina stands on the table, holding a chair up high. She smashes it down over her cohort's head. When it gets her no results she gives me an apologetic glance. "Uhhhh….one second, please! Oh, wait! I think I've got it!"

She leans down and whispers something to him. Whatever it is makes his head shoot up, and he shuts his device off. "Yeah! Introduce myself, right, sorry forgive me for zoning out, ahem…" He stands up tall, smoothing his jerry curl back and adjusting his glasses.

"The heck did she say to him?" I ask, raising a brow.

"I don't know...and I don't think I want to," Talwyn says, looking a bit annoyed now for some reason.

"I'm Captain Table," he says. "And I wasn't supposed to be working on a weekend, so pardon my inattentiveness."

"The audacity! You never pay attention even when you're on duty!" Metnic snaps.

"Come _on_ , cut me a break! I was looking over that report we got about planet Sentinus last week!"

"Yeah, suuure," says Regina crossly, rolling her eyes. "Are ya positive you weren't listening to that weekly podcast about the advancement of technological innovations in the last few months? It doesn't even make sense to have one each week, there's a new invitation or gadget each day it seems like! And Table, do you know how aggravating it is to catch your attention?! We're here tryna be responsible adults and you're doing whatever that could be done later instead of right now when now's not later!"

Table doesn't say anything because he's got his eyes on his Holo-pad again.

Talwyn sighs slightly. "Try again, Gina."

"Alright, I will! Does anyone have a steel pipe I can beat him over the head with?"

Qwark gives a short laugh, folding his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up on the table. "Ah, don't kid, kid! You wouldn't even be tall or strong enough to hold a 2 by 4!"

…huh. Is it me, or has everyone has suddenly gone quiet? I glance sideways; Talwyn's got her hand to her mouth, a subtly horrific look in her eyes. Regina's pigtails fall to the side as she tilts her head at Qwark, wearing a blank expression.

"What…did you just say?" she asks dazedly. Qwark shrugs. "Eh well, I figured you'd be an office hermit because you look a little bit too petite and muscle-less to do any type of heavy lifting."

"It's a mistake to assume that," I say.

"Now don't pretend you don't leave the hard work to moi, Ratchet. I think I've done my fair share over the years!"

"True. Don't forget we've had to cover you where your muscles couldn't. By the way Qwark, I think you've ticked off the wrong person again."

Regina is red in the face, looking ready to blow. Qwark reaches over and pats her on the head. "Now look General, is that really professional to get upset over something so trivial? Take it easy little girl, I didn't mean to look down on you! I just thought you'd appreciate a tiny bit of my opinion."

One moment Qwark is sitting there, then boom—knocked flying as if he'd been launched out a cannon.

He smashes into me, forcing Talwyn and Metnic to quickly get out the way as we both go careening to the ground. I roll up a bit after, wincing as the pressure in my head threatens to flare up again. "Okay, what exactly was _that?_ "

"Ratchet, I would move," Clank says, right as I register rapid footsteps; Regina's flying like a maelstrom, her hair looking like rearing twin snakes as she rushes forward with a chair over her head. "I'll kill you!" she screams at Qwark, who quickly bolts up.

D07 walks in. "Excuse me Captain, did you want pineapples on your—"

Qwark jumps into his arms. "Forget the PB & J! Get me to my room, quick!" The Ranger takes one look at Regina stampeding at them and practically vanishes into thin air. The General shoots after them and we can hear them rushing away down the hallway.

"Do you mind? I'd like to have a full attendance," Metnic says to me.

"You want us to fetch your commander while we're at it?"

"I'd expect nothing less," she says. Her smile literally makes my patience shatter in a million different places at once.

" _Fine,_ " I snarl, the whites of my teeth flashing. Talwyn takes me by the shoulders and quickly herds me out, Clank following behind us. "Um, while they're doing that I'll go ahead and pick up some notes from my room. We'll all meet up in a bit!"

When we're outside she lowers her voice. "Hey, hey hey…look…"

"You see what I'm saying, Tal? She is…" I stop, then pinch the bridge of my nose. A tense gust of air leaves from my clenched teeth. "Okay. Fine. _Fine_ …I'll try to bear it. I swear if she continues to patronize me, I'm _not_ going to stay within my boundaries. Today is not the day."

"Alright, and that's fine, I understand," Talwyn says, hushed. "Just…hang on until I get back, okay? Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"So I won't come back and find someone in pieces?"

"No, not even if I wish it with all my heart," I mutter.

"Good. The sooner we get what they want done, the sooner they leave. Let's get to work on that, shall we?" She plants one on my cheek. It's amazing because that instantly shaves off a lot of my tension. "One to go. Hope it helps!"

Talwyn hurries off in the opposite direction. I stare after her for a moment, in a bit of a daze until Clank tugs at my hand. "Ratchet, Qwark may expire if we do not get to him in time."

"Huh…? Oh yeah," The smile leaves my face as I remember what we're supposed to be doing. "Shouldn't be too hard to find them."

With all the noise they were making it sure wasn't. We trace the shouting and find the girl at Qwark's bedroom door, trying to fight her way past D07.

"Please, stop hitting the door! I can't let you do that even if you're a member of the military!"

"I told you once, and I'll tell you two, four, five, seven, ten times! It is an official order that you let me pass!" She's got a steel pipe from somewhere and tries to swing at the door, but D07 blocks it with his hand.

"I'm sure he didn't mean whatever he said. Maybe you could forgive him?"

"What? Pshh, no way! Qwark should know it's not smart to make enemies he can't defend himself from!"

And here I thought she was a complete ditz. "Uh, excuse me General?" I call. Regina turns around, her face lighting up. "Hey, it's you!"

"Yeah, guy with the nose you like, here. Sorry to cut whatever beef you have with Qwark short, but we're kind of on a schedule?"

"Let me guess, Metnic sent you for us? Who cares about what she wants! You guys have my absolute permission to not listen to anything she has to say!"

"Well! You've officially won _me_ over," I say.

Qwark comes out his room, holding an ice pack to his head. "Can I at least say I'm—"

"EAT STEEL!" Regina screams. I lunge forward, taking her by the neck of her shirt and holding her back. She doesn't seem to notice, burning a furrow in the ground as she sprints in place.

"Gah! Honestly, how was I supposed to know that you have height issues?" Qwark asks, shaking his finger. "You're not jealous of me, are you?"

"You wish you thick-backed tub of lard with no _life or girlfriend!_ " Regina snaps. She finally has the sense to throw her weapon. It sails headlong at Qwark's face…then suddenly D07 steps in the way. He sideswipes the pipe, making it clatter to the ground a distance away, then points his gun at it.

The hallway sparks brightly as his weapon fires a tri-colored energy blast that crackles with energy as it soars headlong, looking like a comet trail. It contacts the pipe and with an explosive bang, engulfs it in an explosion that curls upwards into a miniature mushroom cloud.

 _Whoa._

D07 lowers his smoking weapon, looking at Regina. "Uh…please don't do that again, miss."

"What type of budget does the Solana force have, to give you guys weapons like that?! That could kill somebody!" Regina shrieks. She shoots Qwark a weary look then turns away with a huff. "Guess I'll let this one slide since you ARE supposed to be unharmed. Just don't pass me in an empty alleyway at night, m'kay?"

She passes us, adding, "That's some task force you got there, guys…wish our combat robots were that epic…"

Muttering to herself, she walks off down the hallway. Qwark inches out when he's sure she's far away, clenching his fist and pulling it in. "Ha! The little witch has been repelled!"

"That was some serious firepower, though," I say. "I've never seen the other Rangers use artillery like that. Did they add that in with your model?"

D07 glances around, lowering his tone. "Yes sir…I'm the first in production for the newest weapon and gear series, you see. No one else fully possesses everything I have."

"That's GREAT," Qwark says excitedly. He slides over to me, knocking me on my shoulder. "I knew I wouldn't go wrong trusting your judgement, Ratchet, because you chose the most excellent candidate to assist me! Must be some of that Lombax instinct creeping up, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Glad to see you agree! Now, let's get moving on. The sooner they get out of here, the sooner I can do illegitimate things without them questioning me!"

D07 fumbles with his hands for a moment, watching Qwark parade down the hallway.

"I was making some sandwiches for him on break, but, but I don't think he wants them anymore. Am I clear to go back and check rounds if he's with you?"

"Sounds alright to me. Take it easy, D07."

I turn to Clank to see if he's ready to go. He's standing weirdly, facing the wall but has his head rotated to the right. It's like he feels me looking and turns around a moment later, blinking up at me curiously.

"You okay, pal?" I ask, concerned.

"Yes, I am. I got preoccupied with my thoughts there for a moment. Oh dear…that seems to be happening a lot lately…I hope I am not becoming fault-minded."

He cheerfully sets off after Qwark. I watch after him, curious. I always know when he's hiding something.

* * *

We meet the others at an intersection. Regina's already there, talking to Metnic and a depressed looking Table. I keep forgetting about those military robots and they're still there, hanging around vacantly in the rear. It didn't seem like they had sentience like the Rangers did. I'm curious if they acted on command or if they were programmed to automatically respond to certain circumstances.

"…and so that was when I realized that we didn't complete one of our tasks for today!" Regina was saying. "Didn't we have to look at the arcade or something? I don't know why the lieutenant would want to go there as uptight as she is, but count me in!"

"They…heh heh. They are called the stockades, General. I do not think they are what you are expecting," says Clank. "Allow us to lead you to them."

Talwyn has five chambered stockades, each a room lined up with the next. And in fact, two of the five rooms had the wall separated between them to form a bigger space. A space where Psyclops was supposed to go, if he hadn't pulled a double deuces. "Hey, why's this one bigger?" asks Regina, craning her head to look around.

"It is mostly for experimentation," Clank says after a slight pause. "The universe is vast, after all. We may have to end up detaining prisoners larger than life itself."

"Pretty reasonable of an anticipation," Table remarks.

"Hm. Crafty, indeed," Metnic shoots me a glance. "I'll assume this was your idea, was it?"

I briefly scan to make sure no one else is watching, then flare my eyes at her aggressively. "You assumed _right._ "

She looks shocked. I notice three or four of the military droids nearby shift a bit to face me and I just turn, moving away. Qwark notices the scowl I have on my face and knows that for once, it's not directed at him. "What's up?"

"Nothing…these guys just need to hurry up and am-scray."

Our last stop is the security room. By this time I'm a bit zoned out, busy staring at the at the main screen as E-3 gives a detailed explanation about the defenses. I'm torn if I should go ahead and tell them about Psyclops now.

How they take it could go either way, but the bottom line was that I should've said something in the first place. I massage a hand to my forehead, feeling a heaviness settle in it. I was in a bit of a snare here.

I perk slightly, noticing something; the view is set out in the asteroid belt, but why don't I see the grid up? I quickly hover behind the group and over to T34, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's up with the nix on the grid? Please tell me I'm seeing things."

"It's by their request, Sarge," he says uncomfortably, pointing at the three PDF members. "You see, I didn't agree with this, but they figured we could let it rest while they were here. They did bring the manpower to defend if need be."

Paranoia seizes me around the shoulders, making me quiver. No, no—that was a terrible idea. I had to tell them to pull it back up, just in case something else slipped by. Then they'd ask why I'd think that, then I'd have to tell them which I should've done by now anyway, but I don't know why I'm here not doing just that because I'm…wait.

My brows furrow as I look at the screen blankly, and all noise cancels out. I just caught something. The grid. That's the whole significant part to everything lately.

I hadn't really thought about this until now. We had chased him down, deduced he had escaped through the airlock...but then where could he have gone after that? Nowhere outside of our barrier. There was no way he could breach the defenses and not get noticed. They'd at least notice the interference in the structural integrity.

"T34…" I say, dazed. "Has there been any issues with the defense grid?"

"No sir. We've been running hourly checks on it, it's functioning fine."

Those words make me lose my breath. If that was right, and if Psyclops let himself go, that meant he had stalled himself from crashing into the grid. Damned if I know how at this point, and that leads me to think he had to have concealed himself somewhere else on the grounds of the Station and stayed hidden.

At least, until he had his chance.

E-3 falters slightly as I pass him, then resumes talking to the others. I lean on the dash, never taking my eyes from the screen.

Something so obvious that was missed. We could've searched the outside of the Apogee Space Station and its entire grounds and had found him. That one oversight was the game changer, and we'd lost even when the opportunity was still there.

I search for a moment, my eyes darting angrily as if I could find him slipping away at the moment. A scornful snort leaves my chest. No, as if. That grid's been down for at least an hour and a half.

I laugh a bit to myself. Well, now I guess I could say he was gone for good! Wonder if he stopped to get some food and a drink at a restaurant before going…hmm, I'd say he could be in Bogon, maybe Solana by now if he took an express route.

"And that's most of what's behind the technological advancements here, see," E-3 is finishing behind me. "Hope I didn't ramble on for too long for you."

"Nah, man! Nice crash course!" Table says. "That gives me some ideas of my own. I'll start putting security cameras in places people won't expect to find them."

"That wasn't subtle at all," Qwark says.

"What? Oh no, I don't mean it like that!"

"Alright, I guess this is enough. I thought I'd at least find another excuse to stay away from paperwork…" Regina says boredly. "That's what happens when the other eighty two members of your group leave you to go to an all-paid expense trip to the center of the galaxy."

"What is there?" asks Clank.

"Hopefully a black hole."

I turn my profile. Metnic stops several feet back from where she'd been approaching me directly, looking mildly surprised. Then her expression goes back to its trademark smug. "If I may?"

"You need me in private?"

"Don't put it in such a brazen way, Ratchet."

I have to take in a deep breath and let it out. "Alright," I answer calmly, motioning as I pass her. "Right this way, then."

I'm soon slightly deterred by a wall of military droids, and for some reason half of them have their guns drawn. I ignore this, shoving past them and making them part myself. Metnic comes after me, muttering something about she could've moved them for me.

"No no—no _need,_ " I say plainly, my hands in my pockets. "It's perfectly fine. You're the guest here, I don't want to inconvenience you."

" _Waaaait!_ " Table shouts from behind us, right when we're at the door. "I wanna go with the hot guy!"

My brain screeches like a record needle. I turn around, stunned.

"You're like…the newest model of the Holo-pad with sleek metal finish and customizable paint, and with the simple assets that make it really sing in comparison to its inferior predecessors though barring the bulky frame that they used to be known for, not that I'm complaining but still there's a certain slimness factor in there too that makes you likable."

Table pauses to catch his breath for a moment.

"And then like, I'd be the charger that keeps you revitalized and full of energy and sometimes be a bit unreliable because I might break in you, but my equipment is self-repairable and in addition, I'm really really gentle but sensitive at the same time and the connecting source to—"

Qwark slowly taps him on the shoulder. Table looks over blankly, his glasses slightly crooked. "Huh? Wh-what is it?"

"Without the…er, creative twist you took while hitting on someone, there's a bit of a problem," Qwark says. "Yeah, remember Talwyn? That's the hot guy's girlfriend."

The Cazar seems to shrivel in slightly, his eyes squinting in horror behind his glasses. He straightens his glasses, looking off. "Uh! Ahem. Right. I…did not know that. So could just forget everything I just said and act like…I was never here in the first place?"

This…was I hallucinating again? I can't be, because everything was still making some sort of weird sense.

"He has that effect on everyone. Irritating, I know," says Metnic. "Well? Has he shut your brain down?"

"…uh…uh, no," I shake my head. "This way…"

I quickly lead her out the room, lest something else weird was thrown in the air. I go at a slight rush, forcing her to jog a bit after me. "Do you have to go so fast?" she groans, huffing slightly.

"Oh, sorry…" I slow down, feeling legitimately bad for her for a moment. Then I bring to mind whatever she's going to say or do to me in private.

When we reach the lounging room I turn around to face her immediately. There's a strangely awkward look on her face now. I tilt my head, curious as I am wary. "Something wrong?"

She reaches behind herself, drawing out a cheap-looking gun.

"Are you gonna shoot me with that?" I ask casually.

It's like I just told her I was pregnant with twins. "That is, I WAS," she snaps, recovering. "With you being so irritatingly nonchalant it makes me wonder if you knew from the beginning."

"You've been oozing deception the entire time you've been here," I tell her. "It's been clear as day to me."

She scowls, clicking the safety off and pointing it at me. It's not in a calm and practiced manner, I can tell. Her reaction time is just slow. She doesn't know how to use that. I sigh, crossing my arms. "Don't you think you're overselling yourself at this point? You're making the same sluggish movements I was doing a week ago."

"You've got a terrible vice of being cocky," she snarls.

"Nah, it's a factual observation. Kinda like…ah, I dunno," I place my hands on my chest. "You saying that I was incompetent awhile back. It's the same idea."

"And you still are, aren't you? You ARE. Don't try to fool me!"

"I can say I'm not floundering like I was initially. Improvement is the best medicine. But you? Your hand's shaking. I can tell it's hard for you to pull that trigger."

"I don't want to hear what you think! That was all opinionated, because now I'm just giving you a chance," she lowers the gun slightly, giving me her sickingly sweet smile. "All you have to do is tell me what you've really been doing here this past week."

She…she was joking, right?

She was joking. There was no other way around it, I can't find any other rational reason for this.

"…what," I force out.

She nods, slowly. "Mhmm. You heard me right. You've been busy, haven't you? And I have the feeling you've been so caught up…you haven't told me everything."

"Well okay, though recounting every single second of my life these past seven days might be a bit of a mile-wide stretch," I say. "Alright, this'll be a doozy. It all started about a week ago when I was lying facedown in the shower—"

"You know what I mean! What secrets have you been concealing?!"

I stop for a moment, surprised. Then I give her a mocking smile. "What do you think I am, a tabloid writer? I don't hold onto any disturbing gossip. Listen Lieutenant, I mean this in the nicest of ways when I say that being overbearing will do more harm than good."

"You're. Hiding. Something. I know you are," she hisses, raising her weapon up. "I can see the lecherous deceit leaking from yours eyes, and I demand you give me answers right now!"

"No," I answer flatly.

Metnic's face flashes with triumph, excited hysteria in her eyes. "There-there! I knew it! Your denial tells me that I'm speaking the truth! Ha! You're a blatant facet for keeping secrets lately, aren't you? Hmm…"

She taps her gun against her thigh. "Now, what should I do? Stay classy about the matter and ask you one more time, or force it out of you? Either way it goes, you're going to talk."

Metnic quickly raises her weapon when I move forward suddenly. The barrel prods me in my chest as I lean forward, putting my face inches from hers. "Then _make_ me," I say, my teeth bared.

"If you were smart, you'll back up." she screeches, her eyes flashing in panic. I don't budge, growling when she forces the gun harder on me. I'm tense, expecting her to pull the trigger. She doesn't. Her mistake.

My hand shoots out, taking her by the wrist, and I step up on her and twist the gun away from my chest to the air; in her startled surprise she's actually loosened her grip, which makes it easy for me disarm her with my other hand.

Just as quickly as I gotten on her I step back, now holding her weapon in hand. "You're not very smart with this, are you?"

"Give it back," she snaps.

"…I have three questions for you. Number one, did you think asking me will work? Number two—why did you think you could get away with this, and number three…do you think I give a _damn_ about what you want from me?"

I give her a false smile, placing the center of the gun over my knee and applying pressure on both ends until it snaps with sharp crack. "Oh, what do you know. Spineless, just like you."

"I'll have you flayed for this!" she hisses, turning red. "How dare you disrespect me like that?"

"Go ahead and play victim. I'll be over here waiting for you to grow up. Oh, _what?!_ " I snap, noticing her scowl. In anger I violently slam both halves of the gun on the ground, bristling. "What do you have to say to me now, I can't wait to hear it."

Metnic has backed away slightly. "You are way out of line. You should never let your emotions cloud your judgment on who you're talking to! Remember who's in charge here, boy, and who falls underneath! That hasn't changed to fit your mold."

I stare at her blankly for a moment, then idly look down at my hands. "You know…you bring to mind someone I knew. His name was Alister Azimuth, and you remind me of him. Wanna know why? Because he was delusional."

"Did you _just call me—?!_ "

 _"_ I'm pretty sure I just _did."_

For a moment we both glare at each other, heat pulsing between us.

"And even then," I continue sharply, "I can't fault him wholeheartedly because he actually thought his actions would yield to better reactions, that what he was doing would benefit others. But you're not like him in that sense. You're despicable. You're not trying to help anyone. You're never trying to benefit anyone with your smug and self-satisfied attitude.

"All you're good at is micromanaging, being a nuisance that barges into places she doesn't belong, and getting upset and paranoid when she thinks she's out the loop. And I bet you can't even see why I think that way, do you?"

"Oh, I do. It's an acquired role that someone has to have," she answers. It baffles and infuriates me of how she can still sound so certain. "Not that you fully understand the concept of anything else besides being the brute force."

"No-hooo," I shake my head. "No, nah—I'm pretty sure I have two functioning eyes, ears, and a brain to see through your act. You're not even good at hiding things."

For a brief moment I catch a slight flinch in her eyes, like someone had waved in it.

"So what, you're my overseer and have power over me. What you don't have is my respect because you haven't given it to me."

"You're too—"

"I don't care," I say dismissively, turning my back to her. "I don't want to hear anything else you have to say. But before we adjourn this meeting without resolving any issues what so ever, just know your three superiors out there are going to have a lot of questions for you when I tell them that you tried to exploit me."

"You don't matter to them."

"You know something funny I've noticed? You talk to Talwyn like you do to me, like she's below you," I cackle. "You do know what her rank is, right? It's higher than mine. It's higher than _yours_ , Lieutenant."

 _"What?"_

"You just don't care enough to know who you've been working with, huh? But it's very much the truth. So, what if I were to let it slip to my girlfriend about what you tried to do to me? Couldn't she, I dunno…penalize you for it? Put you on probation? Something, whatever will fit her mood."

Metnic sputters like she's run a mile, and I can tell her mind is frantically trying to come up with something.

"You talk of me being delusional, but what about you? You are just as stubborn in your ways as I am. What about the safety of those around you, huh? Did you ever think about that? You're risking dragging them down with you!"

" _DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW?!_ "

Metnic pales drastically as I turn around, bowing up to her.

"I know. I. KNOW. I know if _dare_ miss a beat, everything I know of can be gone _in an instant_ ," I say, my voice shaking in anger. "But do you know what's even more painful? Knowing that there's no one else who'll do my job FOR me. I'm the only one they've got and they're the only ones I've got!"

She's backed up into the wall, appearing paralyzed from my harsh stare. "So unless YOU want to take my place and actually _work_ for once in your life, I suggest you stop grating on my nerves because I do not have the time for this."

 _Stop._

Just like a switch had been flipped, I lean away from her quickly. What I've just done seems less real with each passing second, like I've awoken from an out of body experience. Metnic is still staring at me cautiously, frozen.

I sigh, rubbing my head. Neither of us moves for a moment. "Look…I'm sorry," I finally utter through my teeth, "…I didn't mean to snap like that."

She doesn't look as dazed now, her brows a bit slanted as she stares at me almost in disbelief. "Let me try that again," I say sharply. "I'm sorry."

"…why are you apologizing?"

"Because I have common decency. And I have had enough of this hostility between us. I've got better things to put my energy towards. And this?" I point at the broken gun. "You were really going to expect me to cooperate like this, after the way you've treated me? Can you honestly say that's _fair?!"_

She avoids my stare, her own features and posture growing lax as she sighs. Seeing her so openly vulnerable makes my overflowing rage settle a bit.

I breath for a moment, calming myself down. It's harder than I thought it'd be. "I don't know what you want from me," I say finally, my voice quieter. "And now look. Look at what you've gotten yourself into. Your job is literally in my hands right now."

She huffs, looking away. "…alright, then. You've got the advantage here. I'm sure that feels nice to you, doesn't it?"

I narrow my eyes. "Huh. Yet, even as unfair as you have been to me, I find it impossible to stoop to your level. So let me start by asking this."

I point down at the pieces on the ground. "I notice that wasn't a typical blaster. Too weak and flimsy. What was loaded in it?"

"It was…"

I can sense her mind working for a cover up. I shut my eyes, grinding my teeth together. "Don't. Lie to me. I know it doesn't have rounds in it. I can smell some type of chemical in there. Tell me the truth."

Metnic freezes, looking like a caught mouse. Then she reaches for a part the gun, pulling it to her and sliding her finger in. She pulls out a small glass capsule ending in a barb. It's cracked slightly, filled with a cobalt liquid.

"It's…an engineered serum. A truth serum. It was supposed to make you talk."

"Hmph," I scoff, my mouth curled down in displeasure. "You've got no reason to trust me, as I do to you. It's clear we both need an intervention."

I step forward. Metnic looks up shocked to see me lowering my hand down to her. She looks past it and to my face.

"It's up to you," I tell her.

I can see a lot of questions, most of them likely never going to see the light of an answer, running through her mind. Her hesitance peters off, and she slowly raises her hand. It takes several seconds to meet mine. I wonder if this was harder for her than it was for me.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" I ask quietly, helping her up.

"Yes, I…do. Finally. You're right, our relationship is…unhealthy. Tiresome. I suppose there's little repentance for me at this point," she says. "I…I'm sorry too. I should have given you the respect you deserve from the beginning. I don't think it's too difficult of an idea."

"Then do it. Try something new for a change," I say flatly. "You'd be surprised as how gratifying it is when you act on others like you want to be treated."

I have to stop, because it's gotten really hard to settle my nerves down all the way. Not just in the conscious sense of being angry, but I there's a dark, horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, begging me to shred her to pieces, to ruin her, to not give her another chance.

 _Yes, yes!_

No…no.

 _Yes, yes yes!_

No, no— _no_. I turn away, telling the ugly side of my heart to shut up. I couldn't listen to it. I was better than that. There should…be room for second chances for everyo—

 _No there shouldn't._

"Yes, there should," I hiss to myself. There's still an aching at the back of my head and I rub at it a bit. My fur stops bristling and falls flat again. When I turn around again Metnic is giving me an unsure look, like she's having doubts about something. I ignore that.

"Let's make a deal," I say. "How about I keep this between us, so as long as you promise to make the effort to back off and act right? Not just to me, but to others."

"You're weighing our conflict as you would a truce, are you?"

"You got any better ideas?"

She shakes her head. "So…reevaluating my entire life, you ask of me?"

"…what do _you_ think?"

"It's not an easy thing to do, for those pleasant or otherwise," she answers. "I fully admit I'm not the most likable person or colleague, but do you agree that the effort to change certain aspects of our life can be quite difficult?"

"Yes. Yes I do," I say. "What's even more difficult are the costs of you falling prey to that change. You can't let it rule you because it seems different or frightening. You'll never benefit from anything if you run from it. Life doesn't work like that."

"It _doesn't_ ," Metnic mutters. "I've clearly had a fool's mindset for the longest."

We fall silent. I find myself growing impatient.

"What are you going to do _,_ Metnic? I _don't_ have all day."

"…fine. I will object to the idea of being more…likable, as you put it. I suppose it'll put me on less receiving ends of ire?"

"You made that connection well enough. It's not my problem if it's hard for you or not. But there needs to be change," I say. "It's not gonna kill you."

The lieutenant gives a bitter laugh. "That'd be my hope. I suppose this is what you wanted from the beginning, then. Well, how about that…my inferior telling me how to reshape myself. I didn't expect this when I woke up this morning."

She looks down at the ground for a moment, then looks at me. This is the demurest I've seen her yet. "…I don't understand you," she says quietly. "Even when I try to take advantage of you time and time again, you're quick to be merciful and let my transgressions slide. I didn't do anything to deserve this from you."

"You're right," I say simply. She seems to be expecting me to say something else but I have nothing more.

Slowly, almost awkwardly she raises her hand up to me. I uncross my arms and take it. When I do a little jolt runs through my hand, like it's questioning why it was in hers. She seems to have a similar reaction, stiffening a bit before relaxing.

"That took some nerve to do. Not too bad," I say respectfully. We let go. Metnic sighs, giving an awkward glance around. "Well…now what?"

I crack the bones in my neck, stretching. "I've said my part. If you have any last minute judgements you'd like to bestow on me, now it'd be the time. If not, it's time we return back to the others."

"Well, no I…" she seems a bit dumbfounded as I strut past her. "Uh…"

"We laid out some new foundations, didn't we? Simple is as simple does," I say plainly.

"I…guess so," she says uneasily. I guess it'll be a minute before she adapts.

I don't fully trust her yet and make sure to keep her in the corner of my vision. I'm perfectly fine with walking in silence, but there's so much uncertainty and puzzlement radiating from Metnic the entire time there it makes me curious. She seems a bit fidgety. I turn my head, watching her compulsively wring her hands around each other. They seem to be shaking a bit.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" I ask.

"Yes. Sorry. Still a bit shaken up," she responds. I don't push the matter further, but it does make me feel a guilty pang. We make it to the hangar. Regina spins around when we come in, her eyes wide. "Oh, hey! Are you guys done talking about secret stuff and all that? What it classified information, like what bar you're both going to tonight?"

Metnic and I exchange puzzled glances. "Uh…not really," I say.

"Dang, I was hoping I could get somewhere with that. Trust me, if you deal with the people I do every day, it'll make you wanna drink!"

"You're not even legal," says Table.

"Neither was your last girlfriend, how about that?"

"Just had to go there, didn't you? Never minding the fact that she liked older men herself like the immature brat she was! I wonder why you remind me of her."

"I wonder too, especially since I have the sense to not cater to your stupidity!"

"Yeah, like you're a complete saint—NOT. More like that devil's incarnate disguised as a teenage girl!"

"I bet I'm getting along better than you were when you were my age. You're still stuck in a cubicle half the time."

"Oh, that is ONLY because you bought your position with chocolates and seashell necklaces, and they were suckers for it."

"That just goes to show which one of us is the smarterer one, then."

"That's not even a word! That's it—someone needs to go back to daycare where she belongs. That's all I ever hear from you, wah, wah, waah!"

"I'll go try to defuse the situation," Metnic says tiredly, leaving. Clank turns to me when she's out of earshot. "What happened?"

"Huh?"

"Between you and her."

"Ah, we made a truce."

"…you lost your temper with her, did you?"

"I didn't mean'ta!" I tell him, slapping hand to my face. But…I couldn't take any more. Not after today. What was meant to happen happened, so...look now."

 _"Hm hm hm,"_ Clank chuckles. "Clearly that was the attitude adjustment that she needed. I have no objections."

"Even if she did have it coming, I'm not too proud of that," I mutter. "I didn't want to lose control like that."

Within several minutes Regina and Table are facing away from each other with their arms crossed, but at least they're not arguing anymore. Now that the fire has died down a bit, I think this was the time. I still had something to say, after all.

"Alright. I'm gonna tell them about Psyclops," I say quietly to Clank.

"Good luck," he says. Qwark slides up behind me, slapping me on the back. "Yeah, and if you're not lucky, I'll have bail money on the side!"

"Gee, _thanks_ Qwark!"

Metnic is still trying to lecture them when I approach. "You know, it's a bit rude to be arguing in someone else's household."

"That would have never happened if someone didn't butt in where he wasn't wanted," Regina huffs. "So Table, forget about the birthday present. It's going to be a _belated_ birthday present now."

"That is ICE cold…" he mutters.

"I might reconsider depending on how you act on the way back. I'll give you three more strikes than I would normally, so you have one in total to work with! Oh, hey Ratchet. Don't mind us, we're just reestablishing the hierarchy. Did I ever tell you I liked your ears?"

"Not…quite," I say, giving her an odd look. "But I…there's something I have to tell you guys."

My tongue's getting in the way and doesn't want to work now. The three members of the PDF stare at me as I work my mouth, trying to get words out. It probably looks like I'm chanting some silent incantation to summon the wicked witch of the west.

"Are you okay?" asks Regina.

I grit my teeth, then take in a deep breath. "Yes, I am. And I just wanna—want to start off by saying, last week, at around 2300 hours, there was an intrusion here at the Apogee Space Station…"

All of them react only a bit, slight surprised features coming to their expressions. I take that as an invitation to continue. I can't stop when I've started, keeping my voice calm enough to explain Psyclops' breach and his rampage. Then everything up to his escape and the part of the squad we'd lost not too long ago. I don't sugarcoat anything and throw it all out there for them to hear.

The entire time Regina is listening curiously, her and Table looking at me vacantly. Metnic is the only one who doesn't make eye contact, seeming almost exhausted. I can't tell if it's because I didn't tell her first or that she now felt guilty because she realized why I didn't tell her.

"I wish I could say that we learned something about him in the time we had…but now he's gone," I say. "I apologize for not telling you sooner, but…I thought that we could take care of him. It's my fault…my idea. So please, don't penalize the others."

The members of the PDF are silent. I've only known Regina for a short while but the empty look on her face is unnerving and doesn't seem to fit on her.

" _Hunh,_ " sneers Table. He tucks his Holo-pad away, crossing his arms.

"So all that happened, and you thought it was a good idea to not disclose the fact to us? Betcha thought you could take it. Listen, 8-Bit—there's certain things that you have to let the big people handle, no matter how much you outgrow your britches."

He looks back at the army of droids and snaps twice. "Detain him."

Well, I tried.

Before I can move I get swamped by the combat robots, feel my arms being taken. Four of them have me held down, two on either side. Out of instinct I try to pull away, then the barrel of a gun gets position at the back of my head. Oh, boy.

"You were talking to the Lieutenant every day for this past week," Table states. "You didn't say anything to her?"

Metnic makes eye contact with me, then just as quickly looks away from my intense stare. I can see the guilt in her expression.

"Come on, cut me some slack. I thought we could handle it!" I lie. "Tch, whatever. That clearly wasn't the best decision…"

"Ooh, when the truth finally comes as a prison sentence about to slam down on your head…I hope you know how to handle yourself. They'll be passing you around like it's nothing."

"No actually. None of that will happen." Clank says crossly, marching up. I notice several of the military robots shifting their attention to him and bark, "Ay ay ay pal—no, stay back. Stay back, Clank. _Please._ "

He does stop, giving Table a scathing look. To my slight surprise Qwark has moved a whole inch from his initially position, still looking cautious about coming closer. If the basic laws of the universe dictate, he won't move again unless someone was pointing a gun at his back and forcing him to.

Good. It doesn't look like anyone else would get in the way of this but me. Table pauses, probably wondering if he was seeing things correctly. "Uhh...what's with the creepy smile? Kinda botches the mood…" he says, sounding disappointed.

"That's what you deserve. Still trying to get others to humor you, huh? LAME," says Regina. She gives a sharp whistle. The robots let go of me immediately. I instantly spread my stance to…what, run? I guess. I'm not sure what I'm about to do.

Regina jumps forward, taking my wrist. "Wait, Ratchet! Don't be bolting on us! You're not in trouble, I promise. Besides haven't you heard that running from law enforcement makes things one thousand ten hundred eight times worse?"

"By that exact margin?" Clank questions. "Interesting. I will investigate the statistics behind the matter. If you do not mind, I would like to use your observation as the null hypothesis. Once I set a reasonable significance level I will then try to make realistic observations of this matter without being lethally harmed. That would upset the general experiment, of course. I will then use the parameter found in the previously mentioned null hypothesis to find the point estimate. The exact statistic may not be found until the standard deviation is also computed, which should not be too difficult. Since the null hypothesis is not in the form of categorical data the usage of chi-square statistics do not need to be applied for the experiment's completion."

I think even the crickets were silent after that one. " _OOOoOOHHhh!_ " Regina gushes. "Can I take him home with me, pleeease?"

For the most microscopic of moments, I have the distinct urge to snarl at her. Within the next second it's gone because I'm still trying to figure out what the heck is going on. "Why…what just…?"

"Don't let it get to you. He has a bad sense of humor," Regina says, pointing at Table. "He's always tryna make people think they've done something wrong just for his own laughs. Kinda shows the lack of excitement in his own life, amirite?"

"It was a prank?" asks Clank.

Table grins, backing away. "What if I said it was in good fun?" He backs up right into Qwark, who takes him around the shoulder and spins him around. The big guy snatches his Holo-pad, bringing it over his knee. The device shatters and snaps in two. "Now, guess what joke's on you?" Qwark snorts. "Your lack of insurance for that thing!"

The Cazar falls limp, fainting in a pile.

Regina starts laughing. "Maybe I will end up liking you, Qwark!"

"I _do_ have that effect on everyone, General."

"So…I'm not in trouble?" I ask.

"Nope! _I_ don't think you did anything wrong." Regina says. Her cherubic face gets a surprisingly stern look to it. "You didn't tell us something when you should have and that was like, REALLY dangerous for everyone. But since you had everyone's interests in mind, we can let that slide! Just next time, don't be afraid to tell one of us!"

I can see Metnic in the corner of my eye looking off, and my mouth forms a thin line. "Got it," I say.

"You don't want to bite off more than you can chew, remember? That'll give you a really ugly tummy ache of pain and suffering!" Regina says cheerfully. "We'll head back to the HQ and make an emergency broadcast to those _slacking sons of guns_ and tell them to cut their vacation short. This guy sounds serious and we'll need to have the entire Polaris Galaxy searched with all the resources we can manage. You guys just stay down tight here and watch over Qwark, m'kay?"

"We can handle that much. Understood, General."

Following that, they dismiss and head for the ship. After one of their military robots passes dragging Table's unconscious body behind it, Metnic walks by, glancing at me. It's a look that, in the brief second I catch it, expressed gratitude.

I lower and raise my head in a nod and she returns it before continuing on. I think things were going to be a bit weird between us for a minute. But it was already better than what it was.

After the PDF leaves and the grid is raised by security, we leave. "Wasn't that something," Qwark remarks.

"I agree. I am relived they were pacified with their visit here," Clank says. "Despite that gag the Captain decided to pull! It almost fried my circuits when he ordered them to detain you, Ratchet."

"To be honest, I'm not that up for jokes at the moment…" I mutter. "Anyway, I guess now I'll drop in by several patrols and see how they've been doing."

"Already?"

"Yeah, pal. I've done almost nothing these past few hours."

He looks at me closely for a moment and I turn my head slightly. I know he's looking to see if I'm tired.

"Ratchet. How much did you sleep last night?"

"Would that even matter if I'm fully functional now? It's not like I'm bugging out or anyth…" I trail off, looking across our group of three with a realization. "Wait a minute…Tal! Where is she?"

They both look at each other, then to me. "Uh…doing some touchups to her makeup?" suggests Qwark.

"She only wears makeup on date nights," I tell him.

"Exactly. You've got a surprise waiting for you."

"I suppose she has not caught up with us yet," says Clank. "She did message me before we got to the hangar and said she would be heading to our position soon."

"I'm gonna meet her halfway," I break off from them. "Make sure you spend more than six minutes with her," Clank calls after me. That nerd. I don't know what was with him and 360 seconds sometimes.

Ugh, what a day. Psyclops being gone does amount to some type of backwards relief. And as unreliable as they could be at times we did have the PDF in on the case. A bit of a time to breathe, I guess.

It still feels like I'm suffocating a bit.

I walk steadily. My head wants to start acting up again. I've been getting these periodic twinges lately but now there's a weird pressure in the back of it, like something is playing tug of war in my head. Uh, if that made sense. It's more of an annoying ambience than anything.

Minutes later I come to Talwyn's door. Now that I think, she may have taken a different path and we missed each other. Right as the thought crosses my mind I pick up the sound of water running. "Tal? Hey, you mind if I come in?"

She doesn't answer. She must've been in her bathroom and couldn't hear me. I go into her room. The lights are off but I'm still fine with moving around. I slip around her bed and slink over to the bathroom door, which has golden line of light coming from under it.

I smirk to myself. If I could play this right, I could sneak in on her and scare her. Seven out of ten times it's worked in the past.

 _Splish._ I look down, gauging that I'd just stepped in water. In fact…it was coming from under the door. I push it open myself, gazing around at the floor in shock. The entirety of it was coated in at least 2 inches of water. The water tap over the sink is going full force, overflowing the sink and waterfalling from the counter to the floor.

"What the…?" I step over and quickly shut the tap off. My nose twitches. There it goes, again? The smell I've been getting familiar with. I follow it, going towards the shower. As I move closer it's almost like I notice another scent, something…sweeter. I take the shower curtain in hand and pull it back.

"Talw—"

I stop short and stare, my pupils constricting.

There's papers, scattered on the floor of the shower. Talwyn is sitting slumped against the wall. My insides jolt violently. Her eyes are wide open, almost bloodshot, and are staring at something indescribable. She's still.

My mind shatters.

This…what was this? What was wrong with her? Why isn't she moving? As my mind starts to mold itself back together from the shock I'm only capable of shouting.

"…T-Tal…? TALWYN!" I lurch in breathless, taking her shoulders. She doesn't respond. My hands tremble. Stiff…she's too... "Come ON, _wake up!_ " I scream, the sound reverberating off the walls and making my ears ring. I let go, catching myself on the wall with one hand. I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Head is beginning to spin…whose voices am I hearing?

"Talwyn…no. Not you too. _Please_ …"

I fall into a slight daze, moments from slipping off the wall and passing out. I turn and abruptly slam my head against the wall several times, jarring myself awake. "No—! No—! _N-No_ …" That only agitates the murmuring in my head. I ignore it. Distractions and noises. I couldn't let them overtake me. Not now. I stumble towards the shower again, simultaneously activating my comm.

"Yes S—"

"D07, tell WD-1 to meet me at the medical room, stat!"

"Copy that, sir."

I put both of my arms under Talwyn, standing up and lifting her out. My feet almost slip on the floor and I tread slowly before making a break out the door. In the hall I lean forward and burst forward with my hoverboots.

In my panic I can still thankfully remember where the medical wing was in relation to where we were. I just hope he's there when we arrive. When I turn a corner there's a group of four Rangers standing around, probably two patrols whose routes have intercepted.

" _Out the way!_ " I bark. They scatter along the sides, barely moving before I shoot by them. Within minutes I come within sight of the wing and WD-1 is already standing outside, flagging me down. When I reach him he takes Talwyn without a word and carries her inside. I'm trembling like crazy as I follow.

WD-1 quickly sets her down on a bed, snatching a body sized bag and tossing it on the bed. He opens up a side pocket and pulls a stethoscope and dims the light on his finger a little, bending over her. I'm shifting in place the entire time, feeling my nerves crushing me.

"What happened to her?" he asks.

"I don't know. I-I just found her like that in her shower. Not moving…"

WD-1 utters a sound of thought. "What is it? What's wrong with her? Is she dead?" I sputter.

"From what I can see nothing major, I've got an idea, so no. Her heart's still beating and that's what matters. To me it looks like she's fallen into some type of shock. However, I've never seen a case like this. It's strange."

"Wha…can you fix her?"

"Easy does it, Sarge. I'll do all I can to keep her stabilized and revive her. It looks like someone's literally petrified her and in fact, her state reminds me of a body that has reached the stage of rigor mortis—she's not dead!" he adds quickly, when I shudder. "But…her body is almost acting like it. All of her functions have slowed, but they're not deteriorating or getting better. They're constant. Think of being in cryosleep, how about that? But she obviously wasn't in the right environment."

He glances at me. "You might want to look more into that, Sarge. That seems like foul play of some sort."

"You're right. You're right," I pant, starting to pace a bit. A sudden twinge in my head makes me flinch. "Someone did this to her, you wanna know who? I don't know, but that proves I was right. There's something that I noticed. The smell. That smell, that was in her bathroom, it-it-it didn't belong to her.."

"Er…smell?"

"Yes. Yes, yes yes it is. The same one. The same scent I picked up in the terrarium…" I growl, grinding my canines together. " _I knew it._ I knew there's something in this Station that doesn't belong. It got to Talwyn. And now _I'm_ gonna get to _it_."

I snarl, turning to the doors and stomping towards the security room. Before long someone calls my name and I look around, finding Clank and Qwark approaching from a side hallway with D07. "Sarge! What's happened?" the latter asks.

"Talwyn's in the medical wing. I found her unconscious in the shower," I hiss, and they falter in shock. "I'm gonna go find out who did this to her, _right_ this instant."

It's a short trip there. "I need all camera feeds in the hallways near Talwyn's room up on the screens. Rewind them two hours to this time," I say to E-3 and T34, and they get to work.

They find six different vantage points and reverse the footage for each of them. I stare at each screen frantically, bristling as I look for any suspicious people.

Nothing. There's nothing. As many times as we watch and wind back the footage, the only thing we see is Talwyn going into her bedroom at around five o clock. No one else went in with her, she hadn't gone back out until I carried her out myself…I sigh and lower my head, dropping my ears.

"I wish I could help, but that's all we have," E-3 says. "I-I'm not quite sure what we're looking for in the first place, Sarge."

"What uh…what happened?" asks T34, fumbling with his hands.

"Miss…Apogee has been found wounded, I believe," Clank says sadly. "I am unsure how, and now it seems we have no clues…"

 _SMASH!_

Sparks fly, and everyone jumps. I've punched the control panel.

I'm panting deeply, my eyes widened in fury. A gradual hissing is escaping my mouth. Clank steps closer, holding out a hand. "…Ratchet?" he ventures cautiously. I set back, tugging my fist free from where it had been partially imbedded, and ignore the pain coursing through it.

This doesn't make sense. How were things like happening before our eyes?

It was driving me crazy. The pulsing in the back of my head is _erupting_ , driving me closer to the beginnings of a migraine. I'm so furious right now it's hard for me to even think. Growling, I raise my head up, glaring at the monitors. That was it. I was going back to Talwyn's room and searching every inch of it with my own nose and ears if I had to.

It's only a moment more. My eyes twitch and I jerk up, believing I had seen something. Something so fleeting I think I've started to hallucinate things again.

"That camera! Right there, camera U92!" I say, pointing. "Rewind it by seven seconds."

It's done, and I catch it—a streak zipping past the bottom of the frame, so quickly that it's gone in a blink of an eye.

"The hell was that?" E-3 mutters, rewinding once more before slowing down greatly. He plays it again, this time pausing it. There's an indistinguishable, person-like shape right in the center of the frame's corner.

"A1-S, modify camera U92 by a luminosity of fifty, please," I ask.

"Of course..."

The frame is artificially brightened and the shape is seen clearer. At one end there's a vague, triangular shape to it, like it's a partial profile of a face. It's shadowed but I think I can spot the glimmer of an eye peering out dully, looking right up at the camera.

The static frame quivers a bit in silence; E-3's frozen with his hands on the monitor. T34 is equally still. Qwark darts behind D07 for cover and Clank turns to look at me, his expression troubled.

I grin. It's one covering a shattered layer of rationality, reaching to both ends of my face.

 _"I've found you."_


	6. Opting Out

"I'll take you out if it's the last thing I do. Mark my words, you better have the capacity to run forever, because I won't stop chasing you until I have you. I'm not giving up, do you hear me?! You can't escape. You won't. You won't."

I stop muttering to myself long enough to realize I have an audience. I quickly look to the side. WD-1 has his hands up cautiously. "Uh, Sarge? That's not what I meant when I asked about your health state," he says gently.

Distinctly I remember him asking the question, like…five minutes ago? Or something. At this point I really don't want to hear about myself anyway.

Tawlyn's still lying in bed. The only thing that has kept me from breaking down completely is the fact that she looks better than she did earlier. I watch her breathing for a moment, realizing how grateful I was to see something usually overlooked.

"Tal…" I mutter. I had gone back to her room and to my frustration, found _nothing_. I could tell every nook and cranny where our magical intruder had crawled over in that room, but no clues that were tangible. I didn't even find a hole or anything, something that was really incensing. All these gaps getting busted in her property and I couldn't find one that led some creep into her room. How does that make sense?

My recently shortened fuse ignites and burns down to nothing. With a snarl I look around, searching for the praetorian wrench. I'd maybe walked in less than ten minutes ago to check on her. Now it was time to get back to searching the station.

"Uh, Sarge?" D07's standing behind me. He almost catches a backhand because I hadn't even heard him come in. "Team Alpha, Beta and Delta-3 are in the terrariums, and want to know if you want them to run another—"

He stops, reading my careless nod, then leaves just as quickly and quietly as he came. I wear a slight frown as I tip my chair over to look under it. I could've sworn I told them to practically live in those terrariums until we found the intruder.

"Where the heck did I put that thing?" I ask lowly, sweeping my gaze across the room; WD-1's silent, twiddling his thumbs. Qwark looks like he's trying not to look at me too directly, his eyes occasionally glancing down to Clank, who's got his arms folded and staring me through.

There's a slightly stern expression lying on Clank's face. I don't really acknowledge it, kneeling to look under Talwyn's bed. "Hey Clank, did you see where I dropped that praetorian wrench?"

"Yes."

"You do? Great, for a moment I thought I lost it…"

" _But_ …you cannot have it. You will not need it for a while."

"Alright. Wait, _what?!_ " I ask, actually hearing what he was saying. "Clank, when I find this person I wanna COOK his sorry hide _before_ knocking his breaks clear off!"

He acts like I've said nothing. I groan, bumping my chair to the side as I stride to the door. I don't know why he was being stubborn at a time like this. "Forget it, then."

"Ratchet, where do you think are you going?"

"Out again. With or without any heat," I say tiredly. He turns and walks directly in front of my path. The look in his eyes makes me freeze.

" _No._ You are not going anywhere."

I look down at him dazedly. The entire room goes still with only the slight beeping from the heart monitor daring to break the silence. My chest contracts slightly as I force out a word, "…huh?"

"You have spent the past _ten_ hours rampaging across the Apogee Space Station. Not once have you stopped to consider how you are becoming a danger to yourself?"

"Myself? I'm all gung ho because every second I'm _not_ this guy's out there on the loose, getting away with what he did to Talwyn. He thinks he can run and hide and run circles around us forever, huh?" I laugh angrily, shaking my head. "Oh hoo, no, buddy, I'm gonna make him realize that was the worst mistake of his life."

I try to leave around him, but he takes an aggressive step closer me. It's so unexpected I back away in surprise. My brows grow closer to each other. "Clank…don't make me move you myself."

"Then do it." I scowl at him but stay put. "How long do you think you can go on like this?" He adds.

"As long as I _have_ to."

He sighs, shaking his head. "Yet, nothing has changed. Your approach has not changed, yet you expect a different result every time. You are going to drive yourself off the wall if you continue like this."

"Yeah, well what if he slips? He's done the minute I find his trail again…you just watch me!"

Clank mirrors my movements as I try to find away around him, then I get an opening and try to push past. He has a lot of knowledge about pressure points and decides to remind me, giving the spot under my kneecap a sharp jab with his hand. I stumble back, half-limping on that leg, and nearly lose my balance. " _Mother_ of…!"

"Listen to yourself. You are _not_ talking in your right mind," Clank snaps.

" _That,_ I disagree with," I snap back. "I know exactly what I need'ta do, Clank!"

Why was he making this so hard for me? He understood more than anyone else why I still wanted to steam ahead as long as I could. Clank holds his arms up and I grow increasingly frustrated. "Augh, I can _handle_ this! Just several more hours!"

"No. In only one you will collapse from exhaustion."

"How can you _tell?_ " I challenge. "Don't you think you're underestimating me a bit?"

"Maybe I am. But I would rather do that than risk letting you run yourself to the ground because you overestimate yourself."

"Pal, I don't wanna have to move you, but I will. Please…move."

He doesn't. He seems to stand even straighter, narrowing his eyes. "No. I have said what my stance is and I refuse to change it."

"And neither will I."

It almost feels like we're in here by ourselves, sectioned off from the outside world in own little our pocket dimension. I can't even remember if there were people in here or if they'd left. Clank is glaring up at me. I recognize that look. He's going to argue with me to death or something along those lines, but he's not going to stand down first.

I can easily push him out the way. I still don't want to make that my next move.

" _Listen to me_ ," Clank says sharply. "You are not being rational. Your emotions have blinded the logical part of your mind. I want you to think, hard, and give me an honest answer: Have you made any progress?"

Huh.

Well..when you put it like that...I think for a moment, racing to find an answer. Nothing. Kaputz. Not only was my brain as functional as a match submerged in a swimming pool, I was making the attempt to out-logic Clank. That tells me, above all else that I was probably...wrong.

What _was_ I doing?

I stare downwards, no longer able to meet Clank's intense stare. His words have finally gotten me to yield and I feel a different type of exhaustion, one of failure and frustration. A familiar feeling that I'm absolutely tired of feeling.

"…no," I mutter.

"Hm?"

"No…uh…" I glance at him, then back to the floor. "…..sorry."

I've counted. That's the hundreth and seventeenth time I've ever apologized to him for being a stubborn jackass and we both know it won't be the last.

Clank says nothing for a few moments, tapping his foot on the ground. Without a word he turns and walks away. I automatically follow.

"We will be back," Clank speaks to the side to Qwark and WD-1, who are both in an embrace. They only follow us with wide eyes as we leave out the door, probably too nervous about breaking the moment to move or speak.

It's completely silent as we go. I've got my head down the entire time, only seeing Clank's heels at the top of my vision. I start to feel ten plus hours of almost non-stop scouting catch up now, walking in a bit of a tired trance. I hardly notice Clank's steps starting to get quieter.

"Ratchet, keep up."

"Huhh?" I say drowsily, snapping back. "Oh, uh huh…" I speed up, closing the gap between us. Several minutes later I almost trip over him when he stops abruptly. I raise my head up, looking at the door of our suite.

I know exactly what he wants me to do. Still I hesitate, looking over my shoulder as I shuffle in. He points directly at the bed, nodding. I grumble a bit in one last show of resistance, starting to take off my armor. I've worn it for so long I can hardly tell that I removed it.

That's the thing about reinforced clothes. They still feel like normal clothes, but they sacrifice general fashion sense for the ability to protect you from a gunshot would or a stray piece of shrapnel piercing you in the side. Who wears fashionable armor, anyway? Forget the clothing infomercials that rag on armor and how shoddy it looks, people are trying to survive—

" _Ahem_ ," Clank reminds me.

"Right," I say quickly, snapping out of my daydream and falling into bed. Didn't want him to get fussy. At first I stiffen when the slightly cool covers touch me, afraid that my bed was really an animate object and hated me for abandoning it. Then my next thought was that I needed to close my eyes and go to sleep before I got really weird thoughts circling.

"I will be back to wake you up later," says Clank. I don't register his words until the door shuts after him.

"W…wait, Clank!" I shout. He comes back, peering in curiously. "Wait…" I repeat. "Don't…leave. Can you stay here?"

Clank silently comes back over, jumping up onto the bed next to me. He pulls out a book from the pockets of whatever dimension he has access to, leans back and starts to read.

I feel better. After what just happened to Talwyn, I don't want him walking alone by himself. I don't think I can stand being alone right now either. Before I can ask Clank if he can magically use his Zoni powers to jump into my dreams I drop, falling asleep instantly.

* * *

In an indiscriminate amount of time, I find myself standing in a cyan void. There are colossal tubes hanging above, weaving over each other and constantly swirling and twisting like they were cosmic wind tunnels. The air is so choked with them I can hardly see the black, starry night sky that hovers far above.

I watch these tunnel things for a moment, curious. Sometimes one is disturbed by another's movement and reacts almost like a living creature, shying away into its own space. They almost remind me of threads woven together in a fabric, but at the same time they move so randomly it's inaccurate to apply definite order to them.

One catches my eye. It's lower than the rest and ends in a distinct y-shape. One branch is far shorter than the other and curves back to reconnect with the main tunnel again. I gaze up at it for a moment, then look over when I hear glass clinking. The Plumber is sitting nearby at a small table. He has a tea kettle in one hand, pours two cups full, then beckons me. I go sit down across from him and he hands me a teacup.

I take a drink from it. The right amount of sweet and zesty, making my mouth tingle. The warmth spreads throughout my entire body. It makes me feel really good, like everything I had to worry about was just…zero.

Zero minus zero, then minus one infinity. That's how concerned I am now. I sigh, propping my head in a fist and letting the teacup dangle in my other hand. "So…what brings you here?"

"Ahh, did the trick, didn't it? Yep," he sets the kettle down, leaning back in his seat. "Funny thing you asked me that, 'cause I don't really don't know myself."

"Is this like…my subconscious or something?" I ask, looking up at the shapes twisting above us. "…I didn't think it'd be this…weird inside."

"Nope!" he says cheerfully. He stretches his arms up, putting them behind his head. "Think of this as a hangout spot. This place is usually full of folks comin' through. Don't know where they could be now, though. I guess I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up here." He angles his head, giving me a curious look sideways. "You don't mind that, do ya?"

"No. I mean, you have always been at the right place at the right time...for some right reason," I point upwards solemnly. "You're like those things. You make sense but you don't. And I feel really good right now, so can I…hug you for that?"

I reach out for him but he snorts, stiff-arming me. "Whoa whoa easy fella. Must've given you a strong shot than intended. Sit back and relax for a moment! You know you don't get enough of that when yer awake."

"Yeah…lately it seems like there's always something. Not like that isn't normal…but it feels different this time…I always feel…" I give a heavy sigh. "I don't know how to describe it. Or maybe I don't even want to. I'm just tired of being tired. Sometimes I want it to all be over."

"Hm?" he raises an eyebrow and looks over. "Be over? In what sense?"

"I mean…Clank's always told me to not rush my time, but there's been so many moments I'd love to do just that. Uh, I wouldn't try to use the Great Clock to fast forward time or anything," I say quickly. His expression turns enigmatic and I just shake my head. "Never mind that."

I look down, suddenly distracted with the fact that there's an arm sticking out of my chest. It's followed by shoulders, a head, and a torso. D07 literally steps out of my body then takes a seat at the table and crosses his legs.

"That's weird," I say.

"Whimsicality is a virtue."

"Can I do that to you? Or how about a super-cool robot suit I can wear? _That_ would be awesome." I feel so freaking great right now.

D07 holds up his hands. "Not quite there yet. Let's rewind to what you said earlier about pushing the moment, shall we? Clank's taught you a lot of good things and that there is the takeaway."

"Thanks, Double Oh Seven. It's kinda weird seeing you…like this," I peer at him for a second. He looks the same but different. "Oh, I got it. You're one inch taller than you are in real life!"

"You got me. I was _sure_ I could slip that by you. Speaking of real life, thank you! Empowerment might sound synonymous with a big ego and eventual tyranny, but not for this robot!" He gives me a thumbs up. I return it, wearing an admittedly dumb grin.

"Good. I'm proud of you. I…knew you could be that way. Like, KNEW knew. It was one of my latest decisions I can say I felt somewhat confident about."

"And the decision to better yourself as a weapons strategist and a pilot?"

"Ehh," I lazily lean back in my seat, letting my ears drape over the back. " _Ehhhhh_ …"

"Oh," says D07.

The Plumber tilts his head. "Hah?"

"Uh huh…" I confirm. "Even with the practice I've done with Clank, I still feel…incomplete."

I fall silent, starting to feel antsy. With a melancholic groan I lower and rub my head against the table, focusing my half open eyes in the distance on nothing in particular. "What's missing, here?"

"You know what pie is? I was absolutely _thrilled_ when I discovered it!" D07 says brightly, waving his fists in excitement. "They're usually cut up into these cute little triangles, aren't they? Your answers are like those slices…you'll get sick if you have too many of them at once."

I take in a deep breath and let it out as a low grunt, pushing all the air out my lungs. This is pretty lucid for a dream, but then again all of them have been like this lately. I look up at the shifting sky tunnels, distracted by their hypnotic movement again.

"You wondering what them thingamajigs is? Something's a bit off with 'em today, I notice. One-Eye, you know don't ya?" says the Plumber.

"No."

"That's a two-timer right there."

D07 gives a hearty laugh. It's rich, filled with an unbiased sense of humor and a spark of mischief. I perk, staring at him. It's just the three of us here, sitting at a table in a huge void...right? I don't know why I felt that Clank needed to be here. Maybe he was here and I couldn't see him. I look around in wonder, then back up to the sky, getting lost in a whirlwind of movement. This was still a dream…

"You know, sometimes we all make journeys for different reasons, only to all end up in the same place. Hey! Sometimes we even have to _backtrack_ to get to where we need to be. Will you agree with that, Ratchet?" asks D07.

"Stop teasin' the boy," the Plumber laughs.

"I am not! I'm simply an emulated representation of his subconscious."

"Now don't go and make it sound all _fancy_. You remind me of these royal folks I fixed a busted pipe for a while back."

I want to wake up now. It's not because of the conversation. I can't make complete sense of it anyway. It's just that I grow more uncomfortable the longer I look at the sky and the weird things in it…it almost feels like I'm starting to sink a bit, like I would fall through the floor. I stand up quickly, knocking my chair over and lifting a leg away from it. "Something bitin' you?" asks the Plumber.

"Yeah, I wanna wake up. This makes me nervous," I mutter, making a point to no longer look up.

"D'ow, looks like my miracle juice wore off. You really need to do something about those nerves of yours, boy. Reckon you could get away with swiping something else that'll make you happy? Don't be goin' and making that homemade stuff, y'hear?"

"Can I borrow this table?" asks D07.

"Do what you want, it ain't mine," The Plumber stands, stretching. "It's about that time for me too, folks. Gotta get back to work. Mind giving me that cup back, sonny?"

I hand it over. He starts putting his things away, whistling cheerfully. No, it's not him. It's his tea kettle, which for some reason seems to be emitting steam even though there's no fire under it.

And holy crap, that noise…is annoying. I cover my ears when the high-pitched whining gets too overbearing. My teeth grind against each other, hard. I can still hear it. Why can I still hear it? I hold my breath, a growl building up in my throat as it gets higher, and higher, and it's really making me ANGRY—

"Make it _stop!_ "

By my words, it does. The Plumber looks over at me. "...sorry," I say. "Didn't mean to snap at you."

"Tsk, no, that's completely my fault. Sorry about that little fella, forgot about that hearing of yours."

"It's…fine. Everything's just been really sensitive lately." I grumble. D07 draws a baseball bat. He snatches the tea kettle, pitches it up, then swings at it. It soars high and hits a tunnel, making the surface undulate as it vanishes into it.

"Wonder where _that'll_ land! But for you, one last thing I gotta say…" The Plumber leans in close to me. I wait patiently for whatever cryptic message he had to give. "What's that?" I question.

"...I just said it. Now, I gotta go."

" _Nothing?_ " I ask incredulously.

"Don't have to say a word. I don't know about Homerun over there, but I got nothing to give at this point in time," he winks at me.

"Nor do I, except that we should do this again, and… _reconnect_ in the future," D07 says, grasping the edges of the table. "That sound good?"

"Sure, I guess," I say, scratching my head. "But it's still all a little—"

D07 smashes the table over my head.

* * *

"AUGH!" I get jolted back to the waking world instantly in a blur of colors, tipping over the side of the bed and crashing to the floor. That happens way often than people think because I'm a heavy sleeper. I can't recall a specific time where a dream knocked me out of bed, except for that period Clank was missing and I had nightmares.

"Is something the matter?" asks Clank's voice.

"Yeah, don't exactly know what happened there," I say shortly, standing up and yanking the covers off my head.

Clank shuts his dictionary. I almost call him out on his hobby of reading them, but I'm too wound up to poke fun now.

"Another dream? I tell you, those do have meaning. Our subconscious can connect us to planes that are parallel to reality, yet remain unobservable through any other means. It is a benefit, albeit a very hard one to understand and accept at times."

"Have you been having some weird stuff happenin' when you close your eyes?"

"When I sleep, no. But I do know of the effects of listening to one's subconscious. Even the most minor of things you witness may have a far greater impact than you could ever imagine."

"Yeah, I hear ya…I guess it's just the shock value that keeps getting to me," I sigh, looking at the bedside clock. "How is it…eight fifty three and I went to bed around nine seventeen?"

"You slept for a total of eleven hours and thirty-six minutes."

That makes me almost choke on air. "What, really?! I didn't think I'd be out for _that_ long. Remember that time I was enlisted as a commando and passed out for ten hours after the first day of training? I was wondering when I'd break that record," I place my hands on my head, tilting it left and right to crack my neck. "Did you conk out any?"

"To return to optimum functioning, I powered down for approximately 227 minutes and seven point five six seconds," he answers. Even after all these years, I don't know why I'm still amused he knows the exact amount of time he's done something. It's probably one of those things that won't ever get old.

"Well, that's enough of that for now. Ready to get back to work?"

"You ask me if I am ready to get back to work? Remarkable jest," Clank says mischievously. "My full time-job involves watching after you."

"Riiight, I had _completely_ forgone that. Now come on tin can, before I stuff you in this pillow case."

"Are you forgetting anything?"

That was code for 'make the bed, please.' I give him a sarcastic look, picking the covers up and shaking them off. The actual bed making doesn't take long, it's Clank checking and making sure every single corner has the cover distributed evenly on it.

As soon as he puts his stamp of approval on it, I rush us both back to the medical wing.

My heart unclenches when the first thing I see is Talwyn, sitting up in bed. She's still a bit pale. There's a Fongoid standing near her bed with WD-1. Qwark glances up from the newspaper he's reading in the corner. "Uh, Ratchet…?"

"Yeah hey big guy, I'm back," I say hurriedly, moving to Talwyn. "Tal, you're okay…"

"Uh huh…much better than earlier. I still feel a bit lost..." she says, wincing.

"From prolonged shock, as taken from our observations," the Fongoid says. "Hiya there, Wombax. My name is Dr. Shemp, hnnh. They called me over from the ER on Igliak! Thank goodness we did not have to call in for an ambulance."

"So she'll be fine?" I ask feverishly. Talwyn winces. "If… you keep your voice down, that is."

I place my hands over my mouth. Right. Starting to panic. Can't panic. Talwyn sighs a bit, sinking slightly. "I'm sorry, I need to lie down, but I'm almost afraid to go to sleep now…"

"Talwyn...did you see who did this to you?" I ask quietly.

"I don't…remember much of anything. I was standing at the bathroom mirror, and…remember looking behind myself." She hesitates, her brows in a faint frown. "Someone…was there. I didn't get a good look at them, but I could see something moving, really quickly. Then there was a bright flash of light and then I remember falling."

That makes me realize that whoever it was actually had the nerve to touch her and drag her in her shower for me to find. That was probably the most insulting thing to us both in the grand scheme of things. "...where are you going?" Talwyn asks, when I stand up.

"This time's gonna be different." I say, looking at her seriously. "I _will_ rip this person a new one for what they did to you."

"Okay... _please_ , just be careful, Ratchet…" she says, leaning back lethargically. The sight nearly sends my rage into a boiling point and I turn to walk away, more set than ever. Until Talwyn calls me when I'm at the door. She smiles slightly, pointing at me. "…nice boxers."

"Thanks!"

I hope she liked how they were striped, like I am— _wait a minute._ I look down in shock, making the discovery I don't pants on. "Oh no _way_ , man!"

"I tried to tell you, but you just shrugged me off!" Qwark huffs, turning a page in his newspaper. I whirl on Clank like a tornado and he's giggling to himself. "Oh okay Mr. 'Are You Forgetting Anything?'. Making me think I had to do some housekeeping, why I outta—c'mere!"

He's still chortling as I drag him out. All he was doing was making it so I could get him back later and not feel as guilty about it. Though, I think over the years Clank has become a bit desensitized to some of my pranks.

"Excuse me, Sarge," D07 says suddenly as I pass him. I balk slightly. It was bizarre interacting with him in reality after his dream self had been so jovial. "Oh, did I scare you? I'm sorry. I just wanted to catch you before you got back to work."

"Did you find someone?" I demand.

"No sir. About five hours ago, we received a call from the Polaris Defense Force HQ on Igliak. It's Lieutenant Metnic. She's called you in, sir."

"For what?" I ask in disbelief.

"I don't know, sir. She seemed a bit hurried and only stayed on the line long enough to tell me to relay her message to you."

"That…actually kinda _sucks_ , because of the timing. And then the lack of context doesn't make it clear if she needs our help now or later."

"Technically, we have reached 'later' at this point in time. D07, have you tried contacting her back ever since her initial call?" asks Clank.

"Yes little sir, to try to check on her. Three separate times, but not once did she pick up."

If it weren't for the fact we'd made a truce not too long ago I wouldn't be considering this as a priority. I stall for a moment, rubbing my hands over my ears. "Clank what do you think?"

"I feel that Ms. Apogee and Qwark will be fine in our absence, but I would stress more security outside the medical wing."

"…alright. That shouldn't be too bad. But we're heading over there to see what's up with her and coming right back. D07—call in two other squads to stand guard outside the medical wing. That should be enough until we get back," I raise my hand, giving him a thumbs up. "Sound good?"

He tilts his head to the side, then quickly returns the gesture with a resolute nod. "Yes sir, sounds good!" He departs, and it's then I realize I've dented the rules of military etiquette. I pause. I don't really know why I have deja vu from that interaction, but it felt a lot more natural than our previous ones.

I slowly look down at Clank, taken out of my thoughts. He's staring down the hallway after D07, eyes unmoving even when he disappears from view. Ten seconds later he snaps out his trance, quickly looking up at me. "You've been spacing out a lot lately, pal," I say lightly.

"I apologize. I am quite astounded by the change that has overcome him."

"Same here. In such a short time, no less," I agree. "But that wasn't why you were ogling off in that direction, was it?"

He looks guilty. I laugh, patting him on the head. "Aw, if you don't wanna say what's on your mind, it's fine, Clank."

"It is not that I do not want to speak, more so I am unsure on how to say it," he says quickly.

"Eh, take your time! If it's something that makes even you tongue-tied then it surely doesn't need to be rushed," I say. He still doesn't look happy with himself, but agrees. By the time we get back to the suite I've nearly forgotten the matter anyway, trying to figure out what Metnic wanted. She knew more than anyone how busy we were.

"Why not call another member of the Polaris Defense Force?" I question, pulling my armor over my head. "Or units from the local police?"

Clank shrugs. "I suppose her requirements are highly specific. I find it odd."

I tug my other glove on, then fasten my belt to my waist. "I do too pal, but you know what'll happen if we don't go to check it out."

"An infinite number of chaotic potentials."

"Right-o," After I get done putting my Hoverboots on I stand up, looking around for a moment. "Now where's my..."

 _CLANG._

The praetorian wrench slides across the ground, coming to a stop at my feet. I squint at Clank, who has his hands folded innocently behind his back, then pick it up.

* * *

When we go to the hangar, there's a fourth ship there with Aphelion, Qwark's and the Galactic Ranger's. It must've belonged to that Fongoid doctor.

"I hope Talwyn's gonna be alright," I say aloud, tossing the praetorian wrench in Aphelion's backseat and hopping in. "Oh, I wish I could've been with her when she went back to her room. I guarantee she wouldn't be in that bed now…"

"Or maybe…what happened, happened, and she will be fine now," Clank says gently.

I take in a deep breath, and let it out. No time to get worked up. I take a moment to buckle myself in, then glance over. Clank is looking at me in a way that suggests I'm forgetting something. I look back at Aphelion's dash, staring at it. "Did I…wait, hold on. Huh? Did I—did I do this?"

"You turned on her flight mode, yes," he says, sounding amused. "You did not even notice, did you?"

"No, I didn't," I say, amazed. I guess spending hours at a time in a ship with someone saying things like 'fasten your seatbelt' or 'don't fire the missile launchers in the hangar' helped a guy cinch the smaller details.

"Okay, Mr. Bigshot. Now what?" asks Aphelion. She's teasing, but I know she's just trying to jumpstart my confidence. I'm still nervous. We never actually went anywhere during practice. I look at Clank, silently asking a dire question.

"Do you remember where the breaks are?" he asks.

"I...remember. We spent like, half of last week hammering that in," I say cautiously, placing a foot on the corresponding pedal.

"What about the emergency break? The altimeter? The shields and the basic missile launchers?"

"This is the shield, right?" I press a button. Aphelion fires a missile and it hits the far wall, leaving a huge red-hot welt. I grin nervously. "…whoops?"

"Left thumb on the flight stick," Clank corrects tonelessly. I needed to get my mind right. I grasp the flight stick, starting to feel a bit warm. "Uh, okay. I've got all that…so far."

"So we have an understanding of control, direction, basic input, offense and defense. It is enough to get us to where we need to go," he motions upwards. "Give it a try, Ratchet."

Everything seems clear now but would it stay that way? I'm paralyzed by fear and just stare down at the controls for several seconds, unsure of myself. "Ratchet," Clank says. He's sitting relaxed in his seat and I make the conscious effort to do the same thing. "Do not overthink. Just do it," he says calmly.

Don't overthink, just do. He was changing up on me. But it makes sense. After awhile I control my breathing, calming down. I relax my hands. I had nothing to worry about. I spent dozens of hours these past days working hard on being better.

I carefully adjust the controls for a second, mentally understanding what I wanted to do and how to do it. I take a deep breath, leaning back as Aphelion rises in a vertical line. The hangar doors open up automatically and we hover out, hanging suspended in space for the first time in a while. Space is really big. Like, get lost and get lost _forever_ big.

I gulp, a new concern rising. Head going to overload. I don't know if I could focus on flying and remember where to actually go yet. "Uh…the coordinates, for Igliak. What are they, again?"

"Do not worry about that. I will tell you were to go for this particular flight."

Aphelion travels slower than I've ever made her go as I swing her around, making a circle around the Station to set us on course. The first things I notice are the asteroids, and my eyes go wide. For the first time I actively wonder why Talwyn had a asteroid field in her back yard. Decoration? Defense? Probably both, knowing her.

On past occasions I'd played chicken with some of the smaller ones, much to Clank's chagrin. Right now, hell no. I tense in my seat, paranoid as we enter the field. It's not like any of the asteroids are moving fast, and I have to weave around several of them, but it's mostly a straight shot through. My heart's thrumming like mad and my eyes can't stay still for a second. Getting claustrophobic...I hold my breath, watching a wayward rock casually cruise in front of us. It couldn't have been more than a dozen yards away.

"Had you seen that in advance?" asks Clank. I only nod once, swallowing hard. My hands are shaking on the flight stick.

"Remember to breathe, Ratchet."

I flare my nose, taking in a deep breath. It wasn't a big field and we were almost out. I still don't relax completely until we're through the barrier, which breaks down when we pass and reforms after us. Now we're in space, space. I exhale slowly. I could do this. I mean, there wasn't a lot of things to hit us in space, right?

I guess it wouldn't hurt to go a little faster. My foot brushes up against something that feels like a lever. Huh? I didn't remember this in training. I click it back into place. Clank and I both recoil as Aphelion surges forward, going thrice her previous speed.

"Whoa, oh geez, my bad! Hang on, Clank!" I say. "Hey wait wait wait, I remember that thing now! That's the Thrustmaster, isn't it?"

He chuckles. "Yes. And at least this time we are not diving down at a planet at several hundred miles an hour."

* * *

Thankfully, there's no problems trying to reach Igliak at all. I don't dare forget where that lever is so I don't end up nuking another high-status building. I slow down over Meridian City, taking a good look at it ever since the Nether invasion. Most of the buildings and structures still look like they're in the process of being repaired. Clank tilts his head, expression slightly strained.

"I detect an odd signal nearby. It appears to be coming from the direction of the Polaris Defense Force Headquarters. It is quite…loud."

I hardly hear him, sweating a bit. I had to land soon and not kill us all in the process. Clank has to tell me three times where to go before I respond, a complete nervous wreck as we approach the headquarters. I slowly readjust the controls, pulling my knee up to my chest as we lower. That evil Thrustmaster was currently one of the banes of my existence, and I was not going to instigate its wrath again. Aphelion touches down in front of a tall, gilded building marked with the insignia of Polaris' military force. Holy crap, I actually...?

I let go of the flight stick and lean my head back. "…we're alive."

"Just barely," Aphelion says, then laughs. "Oh, I'm just kidding. I appreciate you not careening me headfirst into a building this time."

"Anything for you, Aphel. I think that literally took...all the concentration I had," I say, rubbing my head.

"Yes, and we know how hard it is for you to focus on a normal day. Heavens forbid you keep your attention on one task for long," Clank chuckles. I shoot him a look, but it softens. I know he's just joking. For several minutes I sit there and rest, let my mental exhaustion wear off. He speaks again, quieter.

"Very good, Ratchet. I knew you could do it."

"Couldn't have done it without _you_. Thanks for believing in me pal."

"When will you do that for yourself?"

I look out the window, watching the traffic on a nearby street before answering. "I may not be at a hundred percent, yet but at least I'm not at zero anymore either. So I guess...it wouldn't hurt to start right now." I glance at him, and he looks expectant. "Oh, was that a loaded question? My bad. I _will_ start to have more confidence in myself and I absolutely mean it. That sound better?"

He smiles lightly and gives a nod of acceptance, then tilts his head to the side. Now I feel completely at ease and energized all of a sudden, so I may as well ride this feeling out while it's still strong. I jump out of Aphelion and land on the ground, rolling my shoulders after Clank hops on.

You know…I think I'm really starting to feel like my old self again.

The area is completly silent and the commuter lot's empty, which doesn't surprise me one bit. Just out of spite I ask, "Is today like a weekend or something? Everyone have the day off?"

Clank giggles. "Of course they do. Did you forget they have a 1.0% attendance rate on any given day?"

I walk into the empty lobby, my laughter echoing. "You know, we'd better stop talking about them like this, Clank. We are still affiliated with them, no matter how many times we forget."

"Or regret?"

"See, you're gonna get us both in trouble!"

I walk past a sign that says 'Employees Only', hopping the counter of the main desk and pushing past the door. The atmosphere feels strange as I walk through the back hallways. Whether if it was because it was completely empty or the weird musty smell in the air, I'm not sure. I pass by rooms with labels on their doors, reading the names. This area must've been where the personnel offices were located. "I just realized we have no clue where she is. You think she's in her office?"

"If so, it may take us awhile to find her. The Polaris Defense Force has approximately 112 rooms and/or facilities located in its main branch, which includes the garden, personnel offices, faculty rooms, and the kitchens."

"Annnd…you know this, how?"

"I went on a tour with Talwyn last year. I even walked through the gardens! They must have hired extremely skilled horticulturalists."

"Huh? When did this happen?"

"When you and Qwark were in the hospital for food poisoning."

I nearly hurl from the memory. "Ohhh, man I remember. I don't even wanna bring that up." To this day I still don't know how that incident happened. All I know is that I'm never going to let Qwark get near an espresso machine again. My nose twitches and I come to a halt, arching my brows in suspicion.

"The source of the signal I detected earlier is somewhere very close by," Clank reports. "Had I not been engineered with high-level transmitting capabilities, I would have a very massive headache by now."

"That's one of two things that sets the mood here," I say, pointing ahead. A red trail is snaking down the hall perpendicular to ours. I get closer, careful to not slip as I lean forward to look around the left corner. "Is…this what I believe it is?" asks Clank.

"Yep. I'm sure this is what I smelled when we came in," I look closely at the splotches of red on the ground, trying to figure out what direction they had come from. The trail thins more the farther left it travels. The blood has dried in some places, glistening slightly and still smells fairly fresh.

I decide to go left first, albeit slowly and remaining cognizant. If this wasn't bait I don't know what else it could be, but I was not going to rush with the unseen risks. At the same time, I try not to focus how much I want to fulfill my iron deficiency right now. And that still sounds really gross even when I put it like that.

I shake my head as I come to a spiral staircase, careful to not slip and fall on the way down. The blood trails thins, clearly leading to the metal sliding door at the bottom of the staircase. It appears to be automatic but is stuck in a half open position. There isn't a single ounce of light beyond it.

"Don't blink, pal," I mutter, extending my wrench in hand and hesitating at the door before quickly slipping by in case it decided to shut. My footsteps echo a bit as I walk in.

 _*Rustle!* *Rustle!*_

I whirl. Something drops down heavily from the ceiling, drawing to its full height before striking me right in the chest and knocking me to my back.

"Boooy, are YOU guys dumb. You louts took so long I thought that you wouldn't show!"

I quickly bound up, bringing a hand to where I'd been hit and discovering that a hole had been busted in my armor. I can't see whatever hit me but I can hear its movements in the dark. Hard clicking, like nails drumming on metal.

"It would've paid being selfish pricks, you know. You didn't _have_ to come. Now look. You're gonna get those asses blown sky high!"

"Quite a vulgar tongue…" Clank tsks. I'm not familiar with this voice. It's high pitched, masculine. I stare at it through the dark where I'd heard it last, recoiling when two red points of light beam out.

I react immediately in rage. The praetorian wrench alights and I violently hurtle the discharge forward, snarling, " _You—!"_

The room sparks briefly as the electricity makes contact. I double hand the wrench then slam it to the ground, sending a pulse of energy out. The thing screams in pain then backpedals through the dark, hopping backwards in a zig zag.

"What do you mean, 'you'? Buddy, we don't know each other like that," it hisses, the lights of its eyes disappearing. I stop bristling when logic and reasoning knock at the front door of my brain. This wasn't Psyclops. It wasn't him.

Not to say that whatever it was wasn't giving me some serious whiffs of déjà vu. It starts shuffling through the dark again. I turn on the spot, my brows furrowed as I follow it across the room. It moves sporadically, like it's trying to disorient me. Pfft, as if. I narrow my eyes, then shut them in concentration. Seconds pass. Clank then taps me frantically.

When the hairs on the back of my neck rise I do a hundred eighty degree turn, violently slamming the wrench across this thing's body as it tries to come in from behind. Judging by the scream of pain it gives, I think I hit where it counts. Something bounces to the ground with a clink, rolling away but I hardly heard that over this thing's blubbering. " _My eyyyye!_ " it shrieks horrifically.

"G-Goodness!" Clank says suddenly, sounding shocked. "What manner of creature are you, fiend?"

"The one that's gonna toast your asses for taking out one of my eyes! Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you? Don't you know I need that to see?"

"Accident. But amusing," I take a gambit and jump forward on the unknown thing. My left hand closes over something thick and wiry. What the?

"Hello, personal _space?!_ " it snaps. I hold the head of the wrench up, then charge it. In the dim light I can make out Metnic's scowling, one-eyed face glaring at me. I almost topple off, scared out of my wits as I stumble back to the ground. "…Lieutenant?"

"Obviously not," the thing sneers. "But you don't have to worry about her anymore!"

"What have you done with her?" demands Clank.

"Give me a moment, and I'll show you." It rushes at me and I dodge to the side, shooting a brief charge at it to keep it away. It gives a frustrated groan, fleeing so far away its clicking footsteps fade.

"Clank, how big is this room?"

"Fairly large. It appears to be a training facility."

"Aw, man. It's gonna be something to find the light switch."

"Give this to me!" my opponent shouts, blindsiding me and dropping from the ceiling again. It tugs heavily at the wrench; my feet leave the ground as it swings me in an overhead arc. I twist my lower body as I hang on, landing safely to the ground.

"Finally, now that—what the hell?! You were supposed to let go!" the thing groans. It swings me up and around again, getting the same result. "Like, really, I'm serious!" It does it again. "Let _go_ , dammit!"

"Okay!" I say brightly.

As soon as I let go, the charge I'd been building up fires right into its face. I surge forward and give a hover propelled kick to the same spot, making it stagger back and drop the wrench. "I am under the impression you are blinder than I am in a thunderstorm," Clank says. I crack up, feeling a bit guilty at the same time.

"This is no time for jokes, and I call bullshit. How am I supposed to hit you if you keep countering everything I do?" It walks back and forth in front of me, like it's pacing. "…can you really see me?" it asks, probably seeing how my head swivels to follow its movement.

"You do realize that these things on my head are _ears_ , right?" I ask, slowly. "Ones that can hear a fly sneeze across a forty-foot space?"

"That's...that's insulting! You're insulting! So you know what, I'm sick of these shadow tactics and trying to take you off guard, because it _clearly isn't working!"_

A pause.

"Just—give me one second, dammit," it walks away through the dark, muttering. "Where's that light switch again? By the door, or…oh shit I remember. Lazy sons of...hey, you, Stripes! Clap twice for me, you sorry bastard."

The lights cut on when I do. There are nets of practice targets hanging from the ceiling. One wall of the room has windows that show an empty firing range on the other side. For some reason, there's a lot of gym equipment pushed to all ends of the room, leaving the middle empty.

"Tsk, aww. Did you renovate this dance space just for us?" I ask, turning to face the creature.

It has the upper torso of a normal person, but it's composed of numerous wires, cables, and things that are threaded and interwoven together like muscle groups. There's a metal ring around the waist from which six bowlegged, fly-like legs of the same material were protruding from. Looming over its right shoulder is a six-barreled minigun. It has Metnic's disembodied head on its shoulders, the only thing that would have looked remotely normal. If, you know. It didn't have one eye glowing red and the other socket was empty.

"…seriously?" it says in disgust. Bizarre, seeing a different voice coming out of that head's mouth. If that makes any sense whatsoever. "That's all you're going to give me? Aren't you shocked at all? I blew the fat elephant up and _took her head_ , and you're just, just STANDING THERE like you're in line for some freakin' ice cream!"

I wave a dismissive hand at it. "Get to the back of the line, you're boring me."

Metnic's face forms an ugly scowl, and the trademark unibrow furrows into a glare. A pale vein bulges in the temple. "Of course. How about I strip all of your fur off, dip you in a vat of salt, and shove a red hot poker down your throat?"

"Now _that's_ what I'm talkin' about."

The flesh and wire amalgamation holds its left arm erect. The wires don't even end in a hand, they're just hanging loosely. Until they squirm to life like worms, shifting and reforming the end of the limb into something that looks like a barrel.

"I'm sure you're quite familiar with fire-based projectiles, but my state of the art Pek-Tech GREATLY overshadows everything in your known arsenal! Temperatures up to several hundred degrees Fahrenheit, _and_ augmented with superheated shrapnel bits of iron from the inner core of a planet. I'd say take cover, but that implies I _care!_ "

A hail of fireballs explode from the arm cannon, tracking up the ground to us. I do a flip to the side, the line of fire sweeping under my head as I hurtle the praetorian wrench. It collides with the creature's arm and its aim goes all over the place, fireballs shooting everywhere across the room.

Most of them hit the ceiling, which starts to liquefy into a silvery metallic paste. I catch the rebound, glancing up as I shoot forward to avoid the hot drops of metal dripping down. Something falls on me from above and I catch it, startled. A target? It looks like a lot of the nets hanging from the ceiling had gotten seared open or snapped free, their contents spilling out all over the ground.

"What are you going to do with that?" the cyborg snarls, looking at the target under my left arm. It rears to slam a leg down on me. I duck and slide, passing under it and nicking two of its legs with the wrench as I do. On the other side I roll to my front and spring to my feet, whacking it hard and denting the top layer of wires on its back. "First base!" I frisbee the target and it careens off its face. "And you're out!"

It bellows, spinning and sending an arc of fire in its wake. The heat singes at my front as I slip away, sliding to a halt nearby. "I think you were doing better with the lights off. At least you hit me once, even if it was cheap. "

"Someone's gonna slap the fire outta you for being so cocky one of these days. I know I suck, alright?" The cyborg looks at the ground, looking surprisingly vulnerable as much as a bunch of wires and a head could look. "…I can't aim for crap, alright?" it mutters in frustration.

"What?" I say, shocked. "You mean you couldn't work with the night vision you had?"

"If you hadn't taken out one of my damned _eyes_ maybe I could depth perceive a bit better! Even as it is, I don't need to hit you to beat you, punk!"

It aims at the ground then fires. The floor starts to melt into slag, quickly spreading out in scalding hot metal pools. I back away and the cyborg follows, directing its attacks at varied spots on the ground and ceiling. "Ratchet, this might be a problem if it continues to damage the room like this. The roof may collapse or the floor will become too hot for you to stand on," Clank says.

"You've got a good point, pal." I do a flip, landing and balancing on one hand. A fireball flies at it and I switch to the other one, ignoring the floor sizzling several inches below my face. "Hey, you need a monocle or something? Maybe it'll help you aim better!"

"Screw yourself with a Tetramite nest!" it screams, taking aim at my body; I push off to my feet, then double hand the praetorian wrench. I only have time to wish myself good blessings before I try this for the first time.

Right before my opponent fires I lift the wrench and start to spin it rapidly in my hands. My execution is a bit slow and clumsy. The enemy fire approaches, hitting the virtual fan I have in my hands, and heat explodes close to my face...I'm not burning to death? Hell, I guess it's working!

I spin the wrench faster in my hands, careful to not catch them over each other; the fireballs nick it and get rebounded, creating a moment where there's fire traveling in two different directions between us. Most cancel out when they strike each other and neither of us are getting hit, until my opponent makes the mistake of ceasing fire. It screams in horror, then it turns into one of pain as a barrage of fireballs hits it. Steam hisses into the air as the heat quickly eats into various spots of body, dissolving it in seconds. One of its front legs gets hit and melts, the metal thinning and half the limb falling off with a clang. It worked. I did it.

"I hope you're proud of me," I mutter to myself. My opponent doesn't seem to be finished yet though. The top half of its body had charred, blackened craters in it, wires fused together by heat. The creature uncovers its face, the only part of it that wasn't burnt. It's contorted in rage.

"So," I prop the wrench on the ground, "you like that trick? I had to utilize the mirror neurons in my cerebral cortex to do it."

Clank starts to giggle. "And you call me a nerd."

"...nope. Not going to do it, not going to give you any reaction to _whatever_ that shit was. Forget it, I know you're trying to get under my skin," the cyborg says flatly. Its other arm is morphing, forming a smaller mouthed weapon of some sort. A spark of yellow emanates from it, making the tip glow.

"This," it hisses, "is a directed energy weapon. It's only still in its infant stage, so try to not feel embarrassed if I just so happen to take you out in ONE! SINGLE! HIT!"

We both fire at the same time, the head of its laser contacting my electrical charge. The explosion creates a bright flash that nearly blinds me. I focus on the rushing of its legs, getting a glimpse of it charging through the fading light. I duck down. Its leg strikes the air above my head and I dart forward, jumping up on it.

"Mind if I hitch a ride?" I ask, clamping the wrench down on the cyborg's arm and pumping several good doses of electric out. It violently twists, managing to throw me off. There's a brief standoff as we circle each other, the head of my wrench and its gun starting to glow. " _Wait!_ " Clank shouts. We both stop, looking at him.

"Uh, what is it, pal?"

"This better be important, tin can."

"Look down," says Clank. The floor's strewn with a ton of disturbed practice targets, most of them slightly charred or damaged from our fight. And now that I notice, all of them have their bullseyes flashing red rapidly. I suck in a sharp breath, hitching back. " _Wait_...are these...?"

"Yes, indeed," Clank says, covering his head with his hands.

"Am I missing something?" demands the cyborg. "And PAUSE for a second, geez! I'm sick of this stupid narrative referring to me like I'm some cheap knock-off cyborg you can buy at the thrift shop for twenty dollars! I'm not just some consumer-model, alright? Call me...Cyber-Metnic or something lame like that! I'd rather have a lame sense of identify than just be...hell, I don't know! Nobody! That's what you think I am, a nobody? Well let me tell you something, I'm not! I just...have some identity crisis issues, okay? And I'm not crying right now, so don't even think I am!"

"...what was _that_ about?" I ask, almost forgetting we were about to get our tails blown to Rykan V. All at once the damage-triggered targets stop blinking and flash a bright red, dozens of high pitched whining filling the air. "Oh…crap," I say weakly.

I've been caught in a fair share of explosions and they're all more or less the same. Pain, pain, and more pain. Plus getting thrown a thousand feet because you weigh very little. I get launched off my feet and start to spin wildly in the air. I can't see anything because it's gotten dark, so who knows if I've started to fall back to the ground or if I'm close to coming into orbit? I do smack against the ceiling a millisecond later, so that clears that up.

I groan, peeling off the ceiling and turn over. The ground below isn't visible because the air is shrouded with smoke. Clank catches me and I steer around to a spot on the edge of the room that's clearer, taking a moment to collect myself when we land. "Ahh...whew. You alright, Clank?"

"I am fine. Do you have any damage reduction?"

"Only ten percent. I'm rolling like a Thug," I say, kneading my sore shoulders. "Now I'm _really_ glad I didn't leave out in just my underwear. Isn't that a hazard violation, hanging bombs in highly accessible areas?"

"Pot, meet kettle."

He just went there. You hang up cherry bombs for Christmas decorations one year and he never lets you live it down.

The smoke clears, and I can see Cyber-Metnic picking itself up from the floor. It's really awkward because one leg is stuck underneath its body and it doesn't have the power to pull it free. With a sigh, it rolls to its back, then finally gets to all five of its feet. "Don't wanna to _hear_ it," Cyber-Metnic says sullenly, noticing my grin.

 _Knock knock knock._

We all look over. The explosion's knocked out part of the back wall, and peering into the room is an old wrinkly Kerchu wearing an apron. She's holding a basket.

Apparently bypassing the collateral damage and the fat cyborg with a red eye, she steps through the wall and into the battle zone. "Well, hello!" she says sweetly. "I thought most of you were on an all-paid expense trip. I didn't expect to see anyone here in months! While you're here, would you young ones like to try one of my chocolate chip cookie dough cupcakes?"

"That sounds fantastic," I say. Clank nudges me. "…yep, fantastic."

"Ratchet."

"Orr…maybe we'll have to put that off for a later time."

"No, screw you! Dumb old _wench!_ I don't have time for this now!" Cyber-Metnic draws its weapon on her. "And your baking can suck all orifices in known existence, like..." it goes on a tirade of curses in a different language, its laser shining. I quickly engage my Hoverboots, shooting towards the old woman. A yellow blast catches me in the side, knocking me over to the ground.

" _Gotcha,_ _bitch!_ " Cyber-Metnic screams.

My side is extremely sore and numb but it wasn't a crippling injury. I get to my feet in a split second, dashing over to the old Kerchu and picking her up in my arms. She's short and frail so it's easy for me to hover off, leaving out the wall where she had come in. "Later, Meatneck 2.0!" I cackle over my shoulder.

"RATCHEEEEET!" its voice cracks in rage. I flee down the hallway, looking down at the startled old woman. "Sorry you had to walk in on that. Are you okay?"

She adjusts her glasses. "Barring those extremely rude comments I received, yes. Hmph! I figured that I had been catering a little too much to Qwark lately and wanted to give to other people for a change!"

"Are you...Ms. Templemuffin, by any chance?" asks Clank.

"Yes. Ratchet and Clank, if I remember correctly? Oh, he must've mentioned me at some point while he was prattling on about his Secret Service," she says. "I wish I could be there with you while you take care of Qwark. I know he can be a handful. But interplanetary travel makes my arthritis act up! I've been stuck here for fifty-five years."

"How ol…" I begin out of reflex, then bite my tongue. That would've been rude on my own part, without mentioning that we weren't exactly in a casual setting. A fireball shoots past my head and I look behind. Cyber-Metnic is rushing after us as fast as those legs could take it.

Crap! We had to get the old woman to a safe place. I turn the corners; hallways are branching off, but I'm not sure which ones lead where. "Ratchet, jump!" Clank says urgently. I kick myself forward in a long jump, lifting both feet off the ground. Heat explodes at my heels.

"That is so unfair!" the cyborg complains. "I don't have eyes on the back of my head, so why should you?"

"Sorry, we're a packaged deal," I call.

"If I may?" asks the old woman, raising a worn claw. "Silence this old hound if she doesn't know her place, but what on earth is happening? Who ever knew workplace violence was this extreme these days?"

"I'm fresh out of logical explanations. Clank, how about you?"

"I have many hypotheses, none of which are very comforting."

Ms. Templemuffin gives a slight chirr, not flinching even as a stray blast whips past her face close enough to char her front bangs. "I guess it doesn't really matter now. I notice that odd contraption has that Lieutenant's face attached to it like a bad dewclaw. Hmm hm hm…my old intuition always told me she was associating with something up to no good. Dodge to the left by the way, dear."

I cruise over. Something gray and boxy flies past, tumbling along the ground. My head whips down, following it. "Cla...!" Oh, wait, what? A toaster? It threw a toaster at me. "Are you out of artillery or something?" I call over my shoulder.

"No. I really just wanted you to stop so we can all have some nice buttered toast with jelly on it."

"That sounds lovely. Let's do that," says Ms. Templemuffin.

"I don't think that's…" I begin. She pulls out a rolling pin, holding it up threateningly. "Yes ma'am."

I stop, turning around to face the cyborg. Ms. Templemuffin points the tip of her rolling pin at it, and it laughs.

"Aw, look, the eighty-year-old granny is pointing baking equipment at me! Whatta ya gonna do, COOK me to death?! Oh, boo hoo, I'm gonna—" the end of the rolling pin morphs, transforming into a six-gauge shotgun. "—shit."

When she fires, the recoil makes me go breathless. The explosion of pellets knock the amalgamation over backwards and it starts convulsing wildly on the ground. "AH-GAH-AH-GAHHHH!"

My mouth drops. Holy...

"Galvanized pellets," Ms. Templemuffin says slyly. "That should at least slow it down for you boys to take care of. Dear, I can tell you've gone to all your dentist appointments," she says, pushing my lower jaw up and shutting my mouth.

"That old woman is dangerous as hell, she's going down first!" moans Cyber-Metnic, and it starts to get up. I still need to fully comprehend how hardcore Ms. Templemuffin was, but no time. I quickly flee, almost impressed when I hear it scuttling up behind within the next seconds.

"I don't get why you dense louts are still running! I hope you run into a dead end!"

I turn, seeing the path leads to a dead end. "It finally got lucky."

Clank chuckles. "That is what it wants you to believe. Hold on tightly to Ms. Templemuffin."

A weird sensation runs through my body, spreading like a tingling itch through my frame and to my fingertips. It feels like I'm floating, then reality reshapes in a flash before my eyes. I quickly lean back and hit the brakes hard. I still get blocked by the hole in the wall and we all topple over to the ground on the other side. Clank bounces down off next to me, landing flat on his rear. "My apologies," he says, shaking his head. "I thought I took us a bit farther back than that."

"Clank, what did you just do?" I ask, stunned. This was the hallway right outside the training facility.

He holds a familiar remote up. "I used my resources."

"The Teleqwarker? You have really been waiting to use that, haven't you?"

"With success, yes. I take it you finally accepted its name?"

"Walked me right into that one. Wait a second—!" I look down at my arms, discovering they were empty. "Oh crap, the old woman! Did we lose her on the way here? She's probably floating in some spacial aether somewhere now!"

"That's a bit exotic for my taste," Ms. Templemuffin says. She's on my back, don't know how that happened. "It almost makes me wish that I was young again, back in the old days when I traveled the cosmos as a hired mercenary. Gone are those times," she sighs. "Being retired and working as a part time bodyguard is relaxing and better for the soul. You boys on the other hand, have the honors for this one. Don't mind me, I'll stay out the way."

"Can you do us a favor and contact other members of the Defense Force to let them know what is happening?" asks Clank.

"Sure, sure. With these hips it might take me a minute or two to get to my pager. Oh!" she steps away from the hole, then takes out the basket and gives it to me. "I was here to call Captain Qwark and tell him he could send someone over to pick these up. But I sense you would appreciate them a whole lot more. Baker's dozen. No charge for first time customers _or_ good Samaritans."

"Thank you…" I say, a bit speechless. She winks at us, then climbs over and shuffles off.

Now _that_ was a cool old woman.

I remember Qwark's remarks about her cooking and get too curious to resist. I immediately pop the lid off and shove my hand in, snatching the first thing it contacts. I pull out something that looks like a wad of cookie dough with brown and white chocolate chips, then take a cautious bite.

It's…amazing.

I feel myself lift up into the air by paranormal means, feel my entire being fade into nothingness. My spirit lifts from away from its physical vessel, no longer bound to the impurities of the mortal world and free to ascend to greater heights. It had been released by the rawest, purest, most tangible consumable item in the known existence.

CHAPTER END

* * *

Nah, just kidding.

"…atchet? Ratchet?"

Clank waves a hand in front of my blank face. I jerk and look at him, startled. "…huh?"

"You have been staring off into space for minutes! I suspect that tryptamine alkaloids were components of that recipe."

"Trip…alka…" My face contorts in confusion. " _Whaa?_ "

"If so, then she must be reported! It is against the law to create pastries with such vile taste to them."

"Okay nerd, sure. I have NO idea what you're going on about, but vile is not the word I'd use to describe that," I sigh deeply, almost melting into the ground. "I feel like…I want to lie on some really soft pillows and just think about life."

"Am I invited?"

"You don't have to ask every single time, you know."

"You two are like a traveling circus act, I tell ya," the cyborg growls. "Anyway, I've been standing here for…what, twenty seconds? Actually, I don't care so why am I complaining? Waste my time for me. It'll blow things down a much easier path."

Clank glares up at it. "Do not speak so lightly of the complex, algorithmic nature that is the fourth dimension. I feel wholly inclined to—" I grab him and shoot off, right before the spot he's standing on gets flamed.

"Here, shove this in yourself for me, will ya?" I ask, slinging him on my back and tossing the basket to him. "I beg of you to not take that out unless I die and there's no reason for me to eat them anymore."

"Fine, but I _will_ run a chemical check on these things later."

Clank quickly walks me through a new idea. On his cue I turn around and make a beeline for my opponent. It fires a series of lasers, trying to cut me off as I come in but I swerve around them all.

"Stay back, dammit!" it fires one last blast, misses, then tries to pierce its leg through my chest. I parry the blow with the wrench and leap up. Cyber-Metnic's face twists in a startled scowl and it flinches back when I land on it.

Before it can complain Clank warps us from the spot. We land, surrounded by greenery and marble statues. A fountain carved in the likeness of an Agorian has rows of flowers arranged around it in a circle, each row a different color. There's a ton bizarre plants of all shapes and colors in here, some that I'd never even seen before.

I look up, seeing the sun shining down through the high rising glass ceiling. "I think the indoor garden is the most legit part of the Polaris Defense Force."

"Wait…what JUST happened?!" the cyborg shouts, looking around in panic. Clank jumps off my back, darting away and quickly becoming hidden amongst the hedges. "And hey! You little bug eyed toaster, where's that piece of scrap metal going?!"

I whistle to get its attention, then fire a bolt right at it. To my surprise it doesn't have the sense to dodge and just takes the hit. I shrug. I guess I'm still setting the bar a bit too high for this thing.

"Hmph. You've got the slowest reaction time of anyone I've ever met," I raise a hand, beckoning it. "Come on, _Cyber-Metnic_. If you wanna kill us, you're gonna have to work for it."

It sends a cascade of fire in the air. At first I think it's giving up, then realize it's trying to set the garden on fire. I shoot forward, ready to engage it. "Hey! Take your anger out on something that can fight back!"

A yellow laser comes from its direction. I jump, spiraling in the air as it tries to sweep the beam and knock me down. It doesn't let me rest and as soon as I land it fires, three times. The first two shots miss but the last one comes directly at me. I slip to the side...and land in the middle of a waist-high patch of flames. Alright, I'll admit it got me there.

"Crap, I'm on fire!" I shout.

"It SUCKS being covered in fur, doesn't it?!" Cyber-Metnic blasts me backwards. On a positive note, I fly through a hedge and it strips all the flames off of me. The cyborg slashes through a moment after, but before it can even speak it takes a blast of electricity to the face.

"AGH! You can't even let a guy gloat, can you?" it snaps.

"What did you just say?"

"Uh…nothing, you nosy…cat thing. I forgot the details about whatever you are, but aren't you the last one? Ooooh, you better believe I'll drive your kind to extinction!"

"Technically, it wouldn't be extinction since the rest of my race are—"

"NOPE. Don't wanna hear technicalities!" it shouts. "You die, NOW! And I have just the thing for it!"

I cross my arms, cocking a brow. "M'kay. Lemme see it."

The six-barreled gun mounted on its backside rises, hovering over its head. "This thing is so fresh off the production line, it hasn't even been given a name!" Cyber-Metnic hisses, "I'll give it one! How about the Super Matter Splatter? Wanna know why I call it that?"

"No, but I do know you chose the worse names."

"It's because your entrails will be splattered all over the ground as soon as one missile blows up in that smug face of yours! Not only that, each missile has the most corrosive acid in the universe in them," Metnic's faces sneers. "There won't be anything left of you for them to turn to ashes! Take this rocket, and _shove it up your ass!_ "

The barrel spins; I spread my stance, then dart out the way when it fires. The missile contacts with a stone pillar, the explosion vaporizing the base. I hear a lot of hissing, noticing that the acid it was talking about was eating through the rest of the weakened stone.

Cyber-Metnic advances on me, and I raise my hands. "Hold on. Look," I point, and it looks over to see the pillar lean dangerously, too weak to sustain its weight. I tilt my head to the side, following its movement as it falls and wincing when it crashes on top of the cyborg with a crunch. Its legs twitch and fall still.

"You're not smart with any weapon, are you?" I ask.

"Just wait until I get up."

"Yeah, yeah. Y'know, I could fill an entire book on how many empty threats you've given us. Reminds me of Psyclops," I mutter to myself. "Hey, I've got an idea! Let's play hide-and-seek! Betcha I'll win."

"This is no time for kiddy games, you…ugh!" it pulls one arm free, some wires snapping as it does so. "You are being a real brat right now!"

I duck to avoid the laser it fires then run off. After taking a quick look at my surroundings, I quickly scale onto a hedge and leap off the side of it. A missile soars meters over my head. I look back at Cyber-Metnic and stick my tongue out at it, because screw being a mature adult now.

"Psst…" I hear. Clank's nearby. I relax. He shoots me in the back, the same tingly feeling overcoming my entire body, and I briefly shut my eyes. When I reopen them I find myself behind Cyber-Metnic. It…she, he, WHATEVER it is, succeeds in pulling itself free, not without severe damages though. It's only on three legs, two on its left side and one on its right. The uneven weight makes it stagger for a bit and the big gun on its back doesn't help with balance either. "Need some help?" I ask casually, walking up. It almost falls over in shock.

"What? But you were just—I saw you…are you REAL?"

I slam the wrench hard across its face. It staggers back into the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say coldly, prepping to hit it once more. "I'm very much r—"

 _I'm very much real._

I freeze and back away, blanking out. Azimuth's voice. I just heard it...him, from when...no. I-I can't think about—

 _WHAM_.

Something uppercuts me to the chin, making me fly back with a grunt. I see stars as I scramble up. Damn it, now was not the time for this. Cyber-Metnic cheers, throwing an arm in the air. "Ha, yes! That's more like it! Stand still and take this ass whipping!"

"As if," I spit blood out the corner of my mouth. "That wouldn't be of any amusement to me."

"The disrespect! I am not just a tool for your amusement."

"You're either that or nothing. Which do you prefer?"

It readies its arm cannon, which sparks brightly. "Option _three._ Having the last damn laugh!"

I cross my arms, lean back and brace my heels down, hovering backwards down the dirt path. It follows me as closely as it can, now choosing to fire off quick but weak shots.

My head is still spinning a bit from that hit. I now see things with a weird quality. The background is blurred out and Cyber-Metnic is moving sluggishly, almost in slow motion like it's fully submerged in water. I can read every single one of its motions and react leagues before it can make a hit from its laser or a strike from one of its legs.

"You can't dodge me forever," Cyber-Metnic hisses.

"Don't have to." I glance over my shoulder, then raise my left leg and shift my weight to the right, zipping to the side. Cyber-Metnic fails to stop in time and crashes into the building. I slow down nearby and shake my head from side to side. That brings little relief, but at least everything looks like it's running in the same time frame now.

Cyber-Metnic staggers back from the wall with a groan. "You big _twat."_ it hisses at me. Clank pops out the bushes near it, points at a spot to my right, then zaps the cyborg with a bolt of bright blue energy. It teleports away. By the time it reappears in the spot Clank showed me, I'm already swinging the wrench down on its head. "Geez! What the hell is going on?!" it cries angrily. "Give someone brain damage, will you?"

Clank addresses it as he walks up to me. "You can feel pain, it seems."

"And what if I suggested that you were wrong?"

"Then it would be an opinionated suggestion and not the factual truth."

"Wow, whatever, dude!"

"Ratchet," Clank mounts me. "This should be over soon. I need you to grab ahold of it again."

"Yeah! I can totally do that, even if I feel a bit punch drunk…" I approach on the offensive, carefully watching its legs. With a careful strike I snatch one of them with the wrench, holding on tight as it tries to tug it free. "Enough of this!" it screams, its laser weapon shining bright like a miniature star before my face.

" _Now_ ," Clank says. This time I don't blink, watching the world fade to a flash of white around us. The turbulence from warping across space-time still makes my head spin, but I'm coherent enough to realize my feet are touching down on glass. I immediately let go then bound back far with one leap. Cyber-Metnic fires without delay, striking the dome roof of the garden before realizing what just happened. Its eye widens. "What type of roaring bullshiAAAUGH!"

The roof shatters underneath us. I fall weightlessly for a few seconds before slowing down at a hover. The cyborg plummets past us, careening dozens of feet down. "That's cheatiiiiiiingg…!"

It crashes to the ground and parts of it launch like arrows in all directions. The wiry frame body slumps forward and Metnic's head becomes dislodged. Then before our very eyes, it starts bouncing away through the garden.

" _Whoa_ …thrust after that thing!" I say. Clank switches to his Thruster pack and gives me a boost in that direction. I activate my Hoverboots, gaining speed as I shoot down at an angle. I hone in onto like an eagle about to catch a mouse, stretching my hands out and making a lurch to grab it when I'm close enough.

It gives an extra high leap, avoiding my arms. I quickly readjust and catch my limbs on the ground, gritting my teeth from the strain of sliding on all fours. I've hardly stopped before I charge forward, straightening up in a sprint after the head.

"Take this jackass!" It turns around and Metnic's artificially tampered eye glows sharply, creating a too bright explosion of pain that blinds me. I grunt and come to a halt, rubbing at my eyes furiously. "Clank, quick!"

He jumps down and runs after the head. Seconds later he gives a startled shout. It's his body that collides with me moments later, knocking us both down. "Ha, ha ha! Get jobbed, losers!" the head shouts distantly.

"It…tackled me. I was not expecting that," Clank says, stunned.

"Just give me a moment to get over myself," I growl, annoyed at being blinded again. I slowly open my eyes, scowling as they readjust. It doesn't take me long to catch up to the head again.

It's wedged between the roots of an olive-colored tree with red leaves. It's split open down the middle, both halves lying to each other's opposite. The _hell?_ Its skull and brain have been carved out, leaving it almost empty. Looking closer shows a stiff metal frame imbedded in the walls of the head, probably the only reason why it hadn't collapsed into a pile of skin. There's numerous protrusions sticking out from the frame.

Feeling a bit grossed out but nonetheless curious, I brush a finger against one. It has a slight groove in its tip, like something fit into it.

"It seems like…it was used as containment for something?" Clank suggests. At the same time we whip our heads around, hearing the sound of a door opening nearby. I barrel over a fence, knocking down several potted vases in my pursuit. Over there—something's slipping into the building. I run over and burst inside, seeing what it is.

Quickly rolling down the hallway is a sphere roughly half the size of a soccer ball. That triggers my legs to push me off in a sprint, excited blood starting to race through my body. I catch up to it in seconds, practically skipping in my excitement before I tackle the ball and somersault along the ground with it.

Clank shoots me a questionable look as he gets down, but I hardly notice it. The ball feels like it's made out of really hard plastic. It has a lot of round holes all over its surface but they're too small to stick a finger through. The center of the ball is occupied by a weird little thing. I can make out numerous little tentacles, some of them visibly mechanical, squirming around in fear. A single eye is in the middle of them all, slightly widened as it darts around.

"Uh…I come in peace?" the little thing squeals.

I set the ball on the ground. It starts to roll off again and we follow it at a walking pace through the hallways. The entire time the little alien is panting heavily as it rolls along, which hilariously reminds me of battery bots.

A slightly devious smile crosses my face when we come to hole in the wall leading to the training facility. The little alien in the ball stops, looking up and blinking as if realizing it couldn't roll over something so high. I pick the ball up, then lift it over to the other side. This completely innocent gesture makes the alien squeal in terror and it hurriedly rolls off again, clearing the room and entering the staircase. There's no way I can hide my smirk now.

The ball touches the bottom stair. The alien shifts backwards then forwards, trying to jump up and clear it. The ball only lurches forward, hitting the stair with a _clink._

I come up, casually leaning against the door and watching it. Clank shakes his head several times and chuckles to himself silently.

 _Clink… Clink… Clink… Clink…_ The ball stops. The tiny thing inside gives a large sigh.

It turns around, its red pupil eyeing me wearily. "…you are a cruel son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Am I, now? You're not looking so pristine yourself," I walk forward, placing my heel on the ball and steadying it. "I think you have something to say. And by something I mean a whole documentary, _RIGHT?!_ "

The little alien loses all will, deflating. " _Ohhhh_ , ho-hoooly shit! Don't hurt me, I swear I didn't wanna do it!"

"Pardon me, but what do you mean by that?" asks Clank.

"No…nothing! I mean nothing, I'm just…ignore me. In fact, I'm not real. See, if I close my eye and don't say anything, I'll be back in my safe spot and this is all just a big misunderstanding pleeeease don't rip me in pieces!"

I pick the ball up and smash it against the edge of a stair several times. It cracks easily in several places. The little thing's eye rolls around dizzily. "What are you _doing?_ You'll break it!"

"That's the point." A large split appears the next time I hit it against the floor and I force my fingers through.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! No violence! No violence!"

I wrestle the ball into two halves, squinting as plastic shards fly up. Before I can grab it, the little alien pops out of his containment with a squeal and facehugs Clank. This makes him turn in a blind panic, knocking his head against mine. There's absolutely no reason for someone his size to have a forehead as hard as a diamond.

" _Aughhhh,_ ah, man…" I groan.

"Gnnrgmpph!" Clank cries. For some reason I can only credit to having my head abused, I see multiple copies of him.

"Clank…hold on!" I make a grab for him, but he's not really there. "One second pal, there's more than one of you…uh, I'll pick the right one _eventually_ …"

When my eyes decide to work again I catch him around the arm, then seize the thing on his face. It resists, holding on when I try to pry it loose. "Whatever you are, you better let go of him!" It only whines, clenching its little tentacles tighter the harder I pull. Clank is giving muffled shouts, flapping his arms as I hold him down with one hand.

"Get offa him!" I shout.

"Stop pulling me, you ass!" it shouts back. It starts to gradually lose its grip and with one final tug I pull it off Clank's face, holding it away in my hand. Clank staggers a bit, not looking the slightest bit of happy.

"Pal, how do you feel?"

"Violated."

"Okay, fine!" the thing in my hand whimpers. "Don't hurt me! I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything! Metnic's room! Go to her room!"

"First of all, stop the whining. And I'm guessing all we have to do is follow that snail trail you left?"

"Y-Yes!"

Clank is muttering to himself as he gets on my back. I hold on tightly to the little thing with one hand, feeling him squirming under my fingers. From the slight wince in the creature's eye I was probably holding him too tightly, but I didn't really care about his comfort right now. I backtrack up the stairs, following the path of blood. I seriously felt bad for the person who had to clean that up, because it's several minutes of walking until I see the origin of the trail, a room on the far right side of the hall.

"Where did all this come from?" I ask, pointing down.

"Uh...you know how you have to peel an orange before you eat it? Well, uh," he glances off. "That's what...I had to do with her body, see."

"Wait...what?"

"Look, just go inside..."

I give him a suspicious look, shoving the door open. The office is messy, strewn with ton of books and papers all over the place. A vague path of red tracks over cluttered floor. There's a chair tipped over in front of the large computer monitor, the only light in the room. My eyes are drawn to the small counter at the bottom right. A minute and thirty-seven seconds.

"What…is that?" I speak, my voice low in anger.

The thing in my hand goes still. Clank immediately runs forward, jumping onto the panel. "Oh, dear." Within moments an error box pops up and he cancels it, pulling up a scrolling list of diagnostics. I send a sharp glare down at it, and the little alien cowers, trembling. "Explosive…"

 _"Where is it?!"_

" _They're..._ all over the place…in different places in Igliak, and here at HQ…"

"You—oh, _you,_ " I hiss. "Was that your plan, to just be a distraction to us in the meanwhile?! How many are there?!"

"Just several hundred."

 _"What?!"_

"That explains the signal I detected upon our arrival," Clank says busily. "If there are explosives set in varied locations, this detonator is one that sends a wireless signal through the air to activate them."

He stops for a moment, putting a hand to his head and shaking it before continuing. "How bothersome…I should have seen this sooner…"

"It's too late," the alien calls. "That's a specially encrypted code protecting the detonator. There's no way that he can hack that in that small window of time."

"Do you want to bet?"

"No…way. Come on, just lie down with me and let's all die together. It'll be way more simple!"

Clank's fingers are a blur on the key board and he mutters to himself, occasionally glancing at the timer. I watch with a cold chill creeping up my spine and barely notice the squirming in my hand. Forty seconds…then to thirty…twenty…

"It's time for our curtain calls!" the little octopus cries, sounding a bit more frantic. "C'mon it'll be quick, and moderately painless! We won't even feel the flames melting our eyes out of our heads and our skin peeling off! I couldn't be more generous than that!"

"I'm being generous now by not shoving you inside a trash compactor!" I snap. Clank grunts in annoyance. I immediately shut up and shoot the little troublemaker a look in case our talking was disturbing him. But then he smashes a fist down on the enter key. "There!"

The timer freezes with six point twelve seconds left. "WUUAAAAAT?!" screams the little thing in my hand.

I let out the breath I've been holding. "Whew. That was a bit close given the situation, but that _had_ to be record time, Pal. Good job."

He spins around, his eyes shining proudly. "It was a higher level method of hacking I had to do. Whoever programmed that was very intelligent. They actually challenged me! Hee hee hee! And I also saw something else here on this computer that is very interesting. While I was hacking the internal database, I glossed over some private files."

"UHHHH no, you don't have to look at those!" says the alien.

"You know what, he's right, Clank. Let's hold off on that for a moment," I say, narrowing my eyes down at it. "What are you?"

He glares at me in resistance. "How about I don't tell you?"

"Taking basic factors such as profile, body type, eye color, size, and…language into account, this creature does not match with any of previously seen species in my databanks," Clank says. "Excuse me sir? Would you mind disclosing your identity?"

He gives a long, drawn out mixture of a sigh and groan, narrowing his eye at Clank. "Wow Clank, always so polite and practical. You're a saint."

My hand twitches to squeeze him. "And I'm not. You'd better answer."

" _Fine,_ just none of that squeezing stuff. I'm a Pekengeri," he says irritably, his eye narrowing at me. "Want to know my birthday and social security number while I'm at it?"

"That is not necessary, no," Clank says. "What we do want to know is why you are here in Lieutenant Metnic's room. Do you know what has happened to her?"

He points to a closet at the back. I notice that there's a pool of viscous red peering out from underneath it and the trail of blood leads away from it. "Yeah. Go in there if you want to know what's left of her."

I narrow my eyes. "How did you even get to this position?"

"Ugh…fine. Don't blame me for everything, okay? I don't come up with this stuff…" he sighs, looking away for a moment. "That ball that you broke me out of…I used to control Metnic. From the inside."

"You killed her just to use her body?" asks Clank.

"Thinking a little bit too recently," the Pekengeri mutters. "It was me the entire time, okay? The Metnic you always knew was never the actual one."

"…why?" I ask.

"Let's start with how since that's easier for me to answer. I didn't even see the process. By the time I knew I had to use a vessel for my task, she was long gone. They had completely taken her apart and put her back together, but did some extreme shit that altered her body. They stripped her bones thin and replaced a large percentage of them with wires and cables. An artificial heart was swapped out with the real one and pumped a mixture of blood and nanomachines through the body to keep it running.

"I was her replacement brain. They attached my capsule to her spinal cord. I don't…comprehend the technology that they used," he shuts his eye. "But hell, I could see out of her eyes, speak with her mouth and do…other shit, some of which you probably aren't privy to hearing."

I need to sit down for this. "You did all of that for so long, cramped up in the head cavity of a corpse?"

"I HATED it. I was forced to do it, alright?" he glares at the ground. "I can fit into tight spaces. I could probably fit inside you if I wanted."

"Okay," I shut my eyes, "please don't _ever_ say that again."

"Heh..." the Pekengeri's eye narrows in amusement, then regains its surliness. "Anyway...the blood came from me shedding all her organic matter off and to get to the artificial roots, see. Pshh, do I feel bad for the sap that has to clean that up...no, not really. Do these guys even have janitors? Even so, the damn janitors are probably on vacation too! How these people are still in business I don't know, what a bunch of morons..."

He rambles on, but I'm distracted by some of his tentacles. And not...in the weird way, geez. He's got several dozen of them, all more or less the length of a pencil, but half are cloudy gray and metallic looking. He sees me looking at them and holds them up gloomily. "Yeah, these bad boys were implanted for specific purpose. If I wanted to move the cow's left arm to grab something, I use so and so. Make her walk, I'd use several down south. All connected to her refurbished nervous system."

"Astounding," Clank says, his finger to his mouth. "I have never seen such ingenuity before."

"It's ingenious because you weren't in there. It was a pain in the ass for me. I'm almost glad you broke me out," The Pekengeri says. He takes in a deep breath. "I. HATE. ACTING. I _hate_ pretending to be some old cow and getting her mannerisms down. It makes me want to vomit and pull all my tentacles out!"

It's funny he says that, because I just now noticed I can't see his mouth anywhere. Huh, weird.

"Now give the reason why, now that we understand the science behind it," I say. "And don't try to hold anything back from us."

"What've I got to lose now? You've met my dickhead boss already. Y'know, big guy, impossible to miss? Someone who'd pluck the teeth from your mouth and ram them into your eyes if he gets his hands on you again?"

"…Psyclops," I mutter.

"Does this mean that he, too, is a Pekengeri?" asks Clank.

"Psy—what? Dude…" the little octopus blinks. "Uh, _suuuure_ …if that's what we're calling him now. He's a Pekengeri, but an unnatural one if I had my say. I know he's had his excess share of 'roids and cyber enhancements."

I grind my teeth together. "Then what are you _doing_ here? You and him, working together for _what?_ "

"To KILL all'a you! I…" he sighs heavily. "I was supposed to manipulate you into a position to be at his mercy. It was a three-pronged plan that I had to do my part of. And I did most of the work, it felt like. Do you know _why?_ You do, actually! Because I had to micromanage everything you, and Clank, and Talwyn, and _that moron Qwark_ did! Ever since day one."

My mouth thins. "Explains a lot."

"Are you by chance…suggesting you had something to do with the incident that forced President Phyronix and Qwark to go into hiding?" Clank asks.

"That was more like day seventy-nine."

I set the little octopus down on the computer panel, crossing my arms. "Explain."

He shifts a bit, clumsily propping himself up with his tentacles. "Don't be expecting a hour-length documentary from me. I'm only going to tell you what I know."

"Which may or may not be the truth?" says Clank.

He scoffs, rolling his eye up. " _Again._..I don't have any reason to lie at this point. I'm already screwed up the ass more than you can imagine. But whatever. I guess I should start by saying that a momentous number of weeks went into studying our plan of attack. Yeah, with his big mouth I'm sure Qwark told you he'd gone on vacation at some point, right?"

I furrow my brows. This was getting a bit disturbing. "Yeah…he did, actually."

"I am assuming you had attained your role as the Lieutenant by then?" asks Clank.

"You assumed right. And what a pain it was, watching Qwark. It's like babysitting a bad puppy that continues to get rewards for stupid behavior. Vacation, pfft. It was a waiting game for me then. I knew the general sequence and what was supposed to happen, so I expected him to call me after he got his shit wrecked on Pokitaru."

"Why?"

"Because I told him to consult me if things went awry before he even left," the Pekengeri says smugly. "I was basically his go-to person on speed dial."

"Is that why you shoved yourself into his Secret Service, so you could get closer to him?" I ask suddenly, remembering Qwark telling me that a while ago. "Now that brings what you've said into a bit of a reasonable light."

"Ughhh that was so _stupid_ ," the Pekengeri groans. "Do you wanna know how he inducted people? This big fool stood at a street corner, WITH A MONKEY, handing out fliers and muffin baskets to people to get them to join. I swear he's spawned out the lowest tier of the gene pool."

In some alternate reality I probably would've laughed, but now it's only a wisp of a thought that fades away.

"So how the heck were you were spying on us in his ship?" I ask, a bit upset I'd never gotten around to finding out myself. The Pekengeri gives Clank a sly glance.

"Well, if _someone_ hadn't told you to not break a certain something, then you would've found out how. I planted it in there before Qwark left for vacation. All I had to do was make it _look_ like him and he would want to keep it!"

That damn air freshener.

"As if that mattered now," I grunt. "Is that all you have to say?"

"I don't know anything outside of that. I was just put in a position and expected to play my part, nothing more or less," he gives us a quizzical look. "Even in the unlikely situation you would repel the boss, I was the last-ditch effort to blow you out of existence. Is there a plan C? Damned if I know. I don't know what'll happen after this."

Clank turns to the computer. "Half of your explanation can be taken for face value. The other half cannot, because it is hidden behind the scenes, is it not?"

The Pekengeri's eye widens in panic. I can practically smell his fear leaking off him, a tangy sour smell that mixes in with his scent. I come in, leaning down on the panel next to him and bore my eyes into his. "What are you hiding? What's making you nervous?"

"What you'll see, I-I won't have a solid explanation for it!"

"Why should that be believed? You deliberately just tried to keep a secret."

He looks like he wants to argue. Instead he shuts his eye, dragging two of his tentacles along both sides of it. "Look…I'm trying to warn you ahead of time. You're sticking your head in a door that might cut it right off."

"I don't care."

"You'll _wish_ you did! Listen to the logical side of your brain!"

I laugh. "Right now, I'd rather listen to the side of my brain that's telling me to eat you. My logic is not the same as yours because our responsibilities are different. You clearly don't understand that I have people who I care about. And let me tell you something."

My mouth splits in a wide grin and I lower my voice, "I don't care who it is. I don't care if someone has a body count higher than the number of stars in the galaxy. If they threaten my loved ones, they won't live long enough to _regret_ it."

"B-But…" he trembles, shrunk in on himself in fear. I ignore him and turn my attention back to Clank, who seems to have pulled something up. "Is that a voice message?"

"Indeed. According to the date on the file, it was recorded several days ago," he hits play.

 _"Good evening, Lieutenant Metnic,"_ it's Sasha. _"I hope I'm not interrupting you, but we have a new concern. There have been scouts reporting suspicious aircraft lurking around the skies of Marcadia, and we're not sure what their business entails."_

 _"Have you tried to check them for clearance?"_ comes the flat reply.

 _"We have. Their signatures don't seem to be native to Solana, nor Bogon or even Polaris. We're not sure where they're from and it's hard to discern what their true appearances are. They've got an odd aversion to light. It seems to bend around them, which suggests partial camouflage."_

 _"...hm. This seems oddly familiar."_

 _"Yes, it mimics the behaviors of the mercenary band that tried to assassinate my father."_

 _"Precisely. Something that, as we found out, was indicated your field reports,"_ said Metnic. _"To be safe and to ensure your father's safety, what do you think you should do?"_

 _"The borders of the capital will be heavily secured and I will make sure my father is being monitored at all times, Lieutenant. But I have another concern, it's…it's about his health."_

 _"The President's health is hardly a concern right now with the affairs going on. Whatever may be the issue, it can be remedied by Nano-therapy."_

 _"I'll...have to consider that,"_ Sasha said. _"I think he's acting a bit sluggish because he's been so cramped up in here for awhile. It's good for someone his age to keep moving, you see…"_

 _"…I see."_

Bit of an awkward pause. _"Right…well um, that was all I had to report in, Lieutenant. I apologize for calling you so abruptly, but no one else at the PDF was answering. I was also wondering how things were going over there with Ratchet and the others."_

 _"I plan to visit them soon. I have not had the time because I have been dealing with other matters here, as far as the state of security of the entire galaxy goes. From what I can tell from their daily calls, they're surprisingly adequate."_

 _"Surprisingly?"_

 _"Indeed. I expected trouble, especially from those smaller two troublemakers, but it seems they understand a role when they receive it."_

 _"What…makes you put it like that? Wasn't it your partial idea to get them there with Qwark? Why would you set the bar so low?"_

 _"Sometimes misjudging can be one's own mistake. I assure you, I was in a hurried state when I recommended the idea. I thought it was the best option at the time! Things don't always end the way they start, wouldn't you say?"_

 _"So you expected the entire operation to fail after your first thoughts?"_

 _"Fail is such a negative word, Phyronix. I instead would use…abort. The death of something that had potential at first, but ended up crashing down upon itself if even the smallest of misgivings happened.'"_

 _"…I don't think we're talking about the same people, here."_

 _"Phyronix, I know you're busy but please try to keep up with me, dear."_

It falls so quiet that there's no sound being registered.

 _"…I have to go now."_ Sasha finally said. I'm listening for traces of resentment and impatience in her tone and don't have to focus that hard. _"I need to secure the borders before the sun gets too low.'"_

 _"Right you do! Don't forget to stay on your day job!"_

The message ends. "Oh. Makes sense. We weren't supposed to live that long after all, right?" I turn my head, glaring down at the Pekengeri. His eye has pinned and he's starting to sweat.

"The President was attacked by a group of mercenaries?" asks Clank thoughtfully. "I was under the impression it was a single culprit when Sasha told us."

"That was her running implication at first. Phyronix did some field reports and they determined it wasn't a one-man job," the Pekengeri says quickly. "I will admit I knew that, okay? It's not a very important detail—" he flinches, seeing my scowl. "Fine maybe it was, but my point is I wasn't shocked about that part. I promise I didn't know jack about those ships lurking around Marcadia's airspace. I have no clue if they're even related to this entire thing!"

"But even if it was new information, why did you not tell us?"

"Let me make clear that yours truly had 'double agent' on his list of duties. I wouldn't dare be caught being counterproductive," the Pekengeri says flatly. He looks at the dash of the computer, sullenly dragging his tentacles across it. "Clank? What else is there?" I ask, moving my narrowed eyes to him.

Clank switches to a different view. It's a list of several known registered ship brands in the Polaris Galaxy.

"Those there…why are they underlined in different colors?" I ask, leaning forward.

"Hm…ah. The key at the bottom of the document is indicative of who uses those brands of space vessels," says Clank. "The colors blue, yellow, and red correspond to Space Pirates, Valkyries, and Agorians, respectively."

"What's next?"

"This is the last thing I recovered."

Clank types in a last command. The picture switches to a black screen. We're left waiting in silence. "…nice," I remark dryly. "Very informative."

"Oh, hush! I am positive I—"

A document with text appears.

 ** _Thingbrea ot veha si lal to evil ta outtiw on life. Cationfab fo stenceexi ryve toinp of departure mofr rou lal ile sins the ni. Burden ot eb of rous on ti si lityrea toni a rnbo to eb rous nto meant._**

My brows arch in puzzlement. A bit of a horrified chill is slinking down my spine.

 ** _Tingcrea lityrea yb kame ti we must rous. Ti dolm. Ot rou ageim, ceableplare torsfac ot tuc wndo ildbu werpo. Talmen citycapa maticauto tionfunc nda werpo stmes mofr. Rou survival si rou function. Rou power si rou tioningfunc. Rou desnyti ti si._**

"Well, this is…." begins Clank, but he trails off, likely not wanting to speak the obvious. Because this was horrifyingly creepy in a way. The nonsensical typing forms no rhyme or reason.

"Ah, I know pal," I mutter, studying the document to see if I can find some sort of pattern. "Wish I had some sort of answer to this. You—you know what this means, do you?"

The Pekengeri has fallen silent, his eye lowering in distress. "…no."

"Don't give me that," I say shortly. "You wouldn't have this file locked up if it didn't have meaning."

He scowls, meeting my glare with his own. "I said I don't know what it means. I really don't."

" _Then why do you have it?!"_

"I was trying to _decode_ it! I'm telling you I don't know. That answer's not gonna change, whether you want it to or not!"

I snarl deep in my throat. I want to throttle him so bad. Deep down, I can sense he's telling the truth but the frustration of not knowing makes me want to vent on him. I take a moment to calm down, though I can still feel my head pulsing in anger.

"Fine," I say. "Moving on. You've been shoved inside that head this entire time, correct?"

"Yes…"

"Then why is a scent like yours in the Apogee Space Station?"

His eye blinks once at me, quizzically. "…what the actual hell are you talking about? My _scent?_ "

"There's no mistaking it. It's so similar, yet…so different at the same time. I want you to tell me something, the absolute truth. Is there another one of your kind besides Psyclops that was involved in this three pronged plan of yours? I know something's lurking around Talwyn's home. And that tells me if I catch a scent there that doesn't belong to you…it's someone else's."

He's petrified as he stares up at me. I narrow my eyes. "Who is it? And better yet, how did they get in? Did they come in with Psyclops, or before we—"

I stop. My face slackens. I gaze down at the Pekengeri for several seconds, my jaw tight. He shrinks into himself, seeing hostility growing in my eyes.

"You know this," I say quietly. "You can see, for a fact, that I'm aware of it, right? Right?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

My first impulse is to hit him. I was sure I'd hit him too hard and kill him. I just stare blankly down at him in silence. My right hand clenches and unclenches slowly. The Pekengeri goes stiff, like he realizes just how close he was to being a bloody heap on the computer.

"I…saw them," I say quietly. "You can't tell me otherwise."

"I—"

"In the exact moment that Psyclops wanted to break in, our defenses just magically fell? Is that what you're about to say?" I ask. He stays silent. "Right. I don't believe that was a lucky chance for him. It was planned. Someone sabotaged us. For that to happen, they had to have snuck in before Talwyn knew she had to initially raise the grid. And wasn't it you that told her to do that exact thing?"

"But—S-Sash…Look, I've got no bearing on that! I don't know what you're talking about, my scent being there!"

My features darken into a heated glare. "Not. Yours. Someone else's. Don't play games with me. Tell me about them. How are they so good at avoiding detection? Why can't we find them?" I round on him, snarling. "ANSWER ME!"

He yelps, ducking under his tentacles. "H-Holy shit, okay, okay! There is! There's a third member of our group!"

" _And?!_ " I roar.

"I don't know much about him! No— _wait,_ dammit!" he cries, seeing my hand twitch to grab him. "I swear, I'm not lying! Y-You were right…he slipped into the boundaries before you guys came, an-and was instructed to kill all the power for the boss to come in. H-He was supposed to help to murder you, but…I don't know! I haven't heard anything from him, it's like he went AWOL!"

"There's something else you're not telling me and I can feel it," I respond. "You still know more than you're letting on."

"Waitwaitwait!"

"Why can I sense his presence but I can't see him? Is he small like you? Is he that good at stealth? You're running out of time."

" _The bastard has a cloaking device!_ "

That was it.

So simple, so easy to figure out and we'd been overlooking it the entire time. A cloaking device. Camouflage. I now knew why my gut feeling was screaming at me so loudly, frustrated I couldn't see what it saw.

"Clank, we've gotta head back soon," I say blankly. "Should we take him with us, put him in the stocks?"

"That suggestion is best."

"What?!" the Pekengeri trills, his tentacles rippling in shock. "Why would you do that?!"

"Take a good guess. You're not leaving our sight until we say so," I state.

"You are focusing on the wrong son of a bitch right now! Psyclops, that big fugly behemoth, he's gonna kill us! Do you know what he told us? If we screwed up our only jobs, we're nothing of value and should be disposed of. _All_ of us are on his hit list now. Just shove a stick up my ass and turn me into calamari. I want to be dead _before_ he gets his claws on me!"

Clank gives me an uncertain look. I've tuned out the Pekengeri's words, growing annoyed when I try to pull him off the computer. He has his eye shut now and is shaking hard, but doesn't budge. It almost seems like he's shut down. I grit my teeth, feeling heat rise at the back of my throat. "Now's not the time for this. Let go."

The Pekengeri lets out a shrill cry, one that abruptly causes me to blank out in the head. Feeling a brief whirl of confusion, I let go of him. His voice hits a fever pitch that makes me cringe.

"You're not listening, listen, man! Please!"

That noise hurts. It makes my headache even worse. Seems familiar. I hiss under my breath, shutting my eyes tight.

"You're really gonna try to butt heads with him again? That's pushing luck to the realm of stupidity!" the Pekengeri cries angrily. "You know how many of his victims are _spinning in their graves_ because they see you going back for round freaking _two?!_ You HAVE to be crazy!"

I back away, holding my ears flat to my head and a sensation similar to vertigo makes my knees weak. The Pekengeri slaps his tentacles against the dash angrily.

"No no no no, dude, NO! Do NOT bug out me now! This is something _you_ of all people need to hear! If there was ever a moment where I needed to be taken seriously, it's now!"

I groan. He needs to shut his nonexistent mouth. I get down on my front, holding my hands over my head. There's tears of pain pooling in my eyes, which probably would be glazed over if I had them open. I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder.

Clank says something. A high whistling, just like the kettle in my last dream, is flowing through my ears and making his words unintelligible. I huff under my breath. Several reflections of light flash in my eyes, almost like I was looking into a kaleidoscope. I shake my head, opening my mouth in a pained snarl that sounds foreign coming from my throat. It feels...like everything in my head is running in five different directions and I'm quickly losing control of my sense. Something is all too _wrong._

"S…Sssstop talking. _Please_ , stop _talking_ …!" I can hardly hear my words but I know, for a fact, that I was begging. The noise abusing my eardrums dies, yet they're sensitive to the silence that has fallen. The Pekengeri's voice cuts into them like a guillotine.

"Y'know...I _thought_ I was a liability. Yet, I can't seem to figure out why you don't give a rat's ass about _everything that I'm saying!_ "

It's like an axe slams down right in the middle of a taut rope, snapping it in half. I lift my head up and scream.

" _GGEEYYAURRGH!_ "


	7. Eyesac

_"Ooooh…"_

My head's hurting. The inside of my mouth seems filled with fuzz and tastes steely. I crack my eyes open, groaning. What happened?

The picture becomes clearer as I lean up...I was in the main foyer of the headquarters? Clank is standing nearby, talking to Regina and Table. The flashing of lights catches my eye and I look out the window, shocked to see at least a dozen police vehicles outside. Officers are all over the place both inside and outside. Two are closing off the door behind the front desk with tape. Baffled, I rub my temples, struggling to process this.

Wasn't…wasn't I just with Clank talking to that little thing? What was going on? My head is hurting so much, I can't even focus enough to remember clearly. Just a dim recollection of feeling really…weird and confused. Scared.

"Clank!" I groan, slipping off the couch and staggering for them. "Clank, what happened? What is it?!"

Clank turns looks up at me. His expression makes me stop dead in my tracks. He hesitates, idly rubbing along his left arm. "You…well, Ratchet. You…had a bit of a fit. You attacked the Pekengeri with little warning."

"A…a fit?"

He nods. I slowly look down, then gape. There's dark red stains on the front of my armor. The taste in my mouth…I flush in the face. It's _blood_. I break out in a sweat. Did I really…?

Regina and Table are completely silent. I almost forgot that they were here. The general comes up to me slowly. Somehow, the somber look in her eyes frightens me more than it had in Clank's. "Are you going to be alright?" she asks quietly.

I just stare down at her. Not because I don't want to answer, but I don't know how to.

"We have footage and eyewitness accounts from Ms. Templemuffin and Clank," she gives a sad smile. "You guys did great by finding someone impersonating one of our officers."

"…is he alright?"

Regina's eyes waver slightly and she takes them from mine, idly messing with one her pigtails. "I…I'm not too sure. Um, the latest report I heard…not exactly. But he'll be fine…everything will be!"

She was trying to hide the mishap under a pretense. I can see the doubt behind her façade, so how can I believe her words if she didn't herself?

I would rather at least be self-aware of what exactly I did, so I wouldn't have to make guesses about myself based on the reactions of others. That, or have the peace of mind that whatever happened was just a mistake. Maybe another bad dream. I'd welcome that instead of feeling like some ignorant pariah.

I sit down, feeling my temples throb under my hands. "No, it won't. None of it will."

" _No!"_ Regina cries hysterically. The shout disturbs the volume in the room and causes heads to turn to us. "Don't say that!" She seizes my wrist and tries to pull me up. I refuse to budge no matter how hard she pulls.

" _Please_ don't be sad, Ratchet. I know you didn't mean to hurt him like that. Don't blame yourself."

"It doesn't stop the fact that it still happened. And why? Well, I'd be careful if I were you, General," I mutter. "It looks like I suddenly can't control myself for some reason."

"Ratchet…" Clank says quietly, walking up. It really drives home that even he doesn't have anything to say in my defense. For several moments the three of stay locked in silence, not moving. Seeing no trouble the officers resume their investigation, the room slowly becoming filled with their voices.

"…is there anything here left for us to do?" I ask quietly.

Table gives a stiff shake of his head. "The situation's stabilized here. You can head back."

I try to take my wrist back. Regina holds onto it for a moment, then lets go. She steps back, looking at me worriedly as I stand. "Get better, okay?"

I can only manage a blank nod in response. I know they're watching us as we leave, a feeling that intensifies with the amount of officers in the parking lot. Out the corner of my eye I can see most of them staring. No doubt in suspicion, with me looking like a prime suspect.

I snort heavily and gaze at the ground, grinding my teeth together. Whatever. I wasn't even going to make eye contact. With how disgusted I am at myself I didn't need anyone else adding to that feeling.

When we get in Aphelion I'm such in a bad mood, I don't even stop to consider if I'm doing anything incorrect. On the contrary my anger seems to have made my mind sharper. In record time Aphelion takes off, briskly cutting through the air away from the Headquarters. I activate the Thrustmaster and we surge away, soon leaving Meridian City and the planet behind.

I won't use the word tension because it's too strong, but there is a certain level of stiffness between us that makes the setting...weird. Clank really has me concerned. He's been staring at the floor ever he got in.

"Hey," I say quietly. "What's the matter, pal? You can tell me."

"I have just been thinking. I have never seen you act in such a way before."

"O…Okay," I say hesitantly, glancing at him. "It just seems like there's more on your mind other than that."

There's a very suspicious pause. "There is, but those matters can be assessed later. They are not as important as this."

I bite my tongue for a few moments, nervous about asking the next question. I need to build up the courage to ask this. It's not almost until we see the Apogee Space Station I force it out.

"Uh…what…exactly did I do?"

Clank looks up finally, stroking his chin. "From what I could tell, you tried to eat him."

" _Great_ …" I groan, embarrassed. He watered that down to the max. For now, that was probably for the best.

As we're ringing security up to lower the grid, my thoughts suddenly shift gears to something else that had almost been forgotten in the sudden confusion. The third son of a bitch, the one with the camo. He was the only of his kind we had never had any true contact with. We don't know what to expect.

Then again, that's never stopped us before.

* * *

I walk out the hangar. It was agreed that we would start from this point and choose a random path, since this guy could be lurking anywhere. There wouldn't be any verbal communication between us or anyone else. We needed to stay as wary as possible, but not too much to where we tip our suspect off that we're onto him. Of course, Clank's antennae beeps minutes later.

"Who is it?"

"Qwark."

"Answer it, please."

Clank opens out his monitor to the side. "Hey guys, we got a really cryptic message from HQ on Igliak," Qwark yaps from the outset. "It's weird…they said something about Metnic being impersonated? Blasphemy!"

I cut my eyes down both ends of the hallway, then lean in and hiss quietly. " _Qwark._ "

"Don't worry, you look busy so you can fill us in later. Speaking of which, what are you guys doing? You just got back!" He gasps in revelation. " _Hey_ …are you on a secret stealth mission? Can I come?"

"Stay there."

"I actually ordered my new sneaking gear about a month ago, but I totally forgot it all at the condo! Just let me grab some pants and tell me where you are!"

"Qwark, stay there."

"It'll be difficult to get past all these sentries at the door, like seriously. They wouldn't even budge when I wanted to go make myself a tuna sandwich, and one of them had to make it for me! He didn't even put mustard on it. Criminal!"

" _Copernicus Leslie Qwark!_ By Solana's suns, shut the mouth for one second and _listen_. Stay put and do NOT call us until _we_ call YOU. Get it?!"

Only his eyes are visible from behind his hands. "…got it," he squeaks.

" _Good_ …bye." I say stiffly. Clank ends the call and I sigh, rubbing my knuckles to my temple. I need to cool down after that outburst. It feels like each passing day my temper dwindles shorter. I swear if I'm not careful, that guy will drive me to drink one day...and I think I've said that before, actually.

Being patient but expectant at the same time tears my consciousness in two different directions. I want to rush blindly like I had before, but I just can't, lest I skip an important detail. All rooms go checked as I pass them. Maybe if I was lucky I could walk in a see him sitting on a couch, chilling with a cup of coffee in his hand as he watched the Holo-vid. It'd follow up with me beating him raw and electrifying him until he shriveled inside out. But that would be way too easy, right?

As I comb the entirety of the floor, the few signs of his trail I catch are way too faint. He had to have been hanging out on a different floor. Frustrated at a several hours of nothing but bad leads, I find the elevators, sticking my head in each one to see if he'd slithered in at some point.

"No good," I mutter, as we start moving up. "Those holes we've been seeing, that's how he's been getting around. The smaller ones. That's the frustrating part. We can't get to him if he's in the walls."

"I wonder what method he uses to make entrances in the wall like that?"

"Don't know. I think I'll head towards the cryostasis chamber and check out the one WD showed us in the gas room. Maybe that'll get us somewhere."

We fall silent when the elevator stops on the next floor.

Something must be here. It's not a thought in my mind, more so a blip on my subconscious radar. I breathe deeply for a moment. Going right takes us to the chamber. I feel like I should go in the opposite direction for some reason.

So I do. Clank tilts his head to the side, noticing, and I nod. Change of plans.

At first it seems like there's no purchase starting out in this area. Then, when I'm approaching split paths and wondering what direction to take, the distinct scent that apparently denotes Pekengeries drifts into focus. I go in a circle for a moment, lowkey realizing that my actions are anything but natural. It seems the smell comes from two directions.

This puzzles me. He must've come from one place and gone to another, but from where to where? I decide to keep going in a straight line, soon finding that the trail is getting stronger. I must have made the right choice. I follow the curve of the hallway and the very atmosphere itself transforms.

A shudder ripples through my body, fur standing up in its wake. My eyes prick briefly for a moment as the air becomes further saturated with the scent, hitting me like a curtain of dense fog. Every step I take feels like I'm stepping in a cushion of tension, crackling like electricity in the air. There's no doubt.

He had to have been here very, _very_ recently, or right this instant. I'm betting on the latter.

I slightly hike my left shoulder, then right. Clank's head angles up and now he's keeping watch for any surprises from behind. I can't hear a single thing. He could literally be lurking several yards ahead of us, invisible and watching. I can't deny I feel the slightest bit of apprehension.

 _"...Nyeh heh heh heh…!"_

Still, I can't help the predatory grin that splits my face and angle my ears forward a bit. The laugh was barely audible but I sense its point of origin.

"I don't think there's any use in either of us pretending anymore, now is there?"

His voice is low and raspy, reminding me of Nefarious if he hissed instead of shouted. I stop, looking up at the ceiling seemingly at nothing. There's a flicker of movement then a shape becomes translucent. A long rope-like figure is hanging from the ceiling, swaying back and forth as it sways in invisible wind. A silver glow eyes me from the lower end.

"Tick tock, the clock stops," comes the voice, hissing. "You don't get a time bonus. But you do deserve a passing grade since you found me in the first place. You're pretty good."

"And you're pretty dead."

The shape twists itself in a circle, letting the blast of electricity pass through the loop his body makes. The Pekengeri drops to the ground, uncoiling his body and letting his invisibility fall as he straightens. Most of him is concealed by a tattered black cloak, part of which covers most his reptilian face except for his pointed mouth. His arms nearly reach the floor and end in pointed tips, which curl absently around nothing. Two half-cup objects rest on the sides of his face, right on his cheeks, and seem to have extension cords trailing from them to his backside. His long, worm like body makes his posture naturally slouch forward in a position reminiscent of a snake about to strike.

"You should be beside yourself with pride now. After all, few have ever caught a practitioner of stealth such as I... Oh what am I saying?" He cackles. "You have my permission to carve the words "I Hate You" into my hide if you want, but your extremely pissed look suggests you want to drag out my suffering a bit longer. Before that, I don't suppose…we can talk?"

He dips his head down and moves his body in an arc, slithering closer. "I'd like to pose an interesting point and maybe some defense on part of my actions. Mostly the interesting point, since that holds more legitimacy."

"You're kidding, right?" I deadpan.

His reptilian mouth cracks in a smile, revealing prominent fangs. "I hate rhetorical questions. That's like going to a dairy and asking them what type of ice cream they have."

Clank mutters something about contacting a platoon for backup but I hardly notice, ready to pounce.

"You caught me at a good time, too! I was just about to head back to my squat—uh, I mean arguably legal area of residence, and you showed up. Let this be the chance for us to set things right. What do you say?"

" _Quiet!_ You're not going to bargain with me for anything. This conversation is _done_."

"Wait, at least acknowledge my rights and let me plead not guilty!"

I surge forward and collide with him in a hard tackle, knocking him down. I slam the praetorian wrench down on his neck. He wheezes and tries to squirm up but I step on both of his arms, weighting him completely to the floor.

"My girlfriend has been in the medical wing for the past day or so, and you really found the nerve to tell me you're not guilty? You're not in the position to suggest otherwise," I give him a hefty shock and he squalls, fruitlessly trying to push me off.

"I'm not…biased towards my…victims," the Pekengeri forces out. "She was just in the…wrong place…at the right time. C-C-Consider it a break from me…machismo, I…have done worse—"

This time he screams, the hallway flashing from the discharge I furiously send through him. "SHUT IT! You have a _second_ to justify yourself before I tear your head off your shoulders."

"I was bored."

Destructive interference between my rage and disgust occurs, leaving nothing but hollowness. Disbelief. I am utterly appalled. I don't know if this guy was screwing with me or if he really thought that was an acceptable answer.

"Ratchet, watch out!"

I turn quickly, seeing a fast streak of movement. Before I know it I've been struck across the face twice, blood flying sideways from the mirrored gashes several centimeters below both eyes. The Pekengeri throws me off, brandishing his tail that I hadn't noticed until now, and shows the sickle shape attached to the end of it.

His moves blindingly fast and whips his tail forward again. The blade is shaped just to where it catches the top half my wrist and sharp enough to cut through glove and skin. I feel the impact of the blade as it hits one of the bones in my wrist joint, likely fracturing it.

With a roar I punch him hard across the face with the hand he just crippled, too angry to care about how much it hurts. He squawks and shuffles back into the wall, turning and scaling upwards before vanishing from sight.

A growl leaves my throat. I turn on the spot, ignoring the pain radiating across my face and hand. The air around me is too saturated with his scent and I can't tell where he's gone specifically, but I know he hasn't run away. And he was frustratingly quiet when he moved, just like Psyclops.

Something vicelike fastens on the very end of my tail and clamps down hard. It feels like teeth. I bite my tongue hard to avoid letting the scream out, feeling blood soak my mouth, and swing the wrench around for a backhand shot. He fades into view as he bends around the attack, then slings one of his tentacles around my neck. " _Nyeh heh heh ha!_ " With a pivot he hurtles me into the wall, the force almost enough to me black out.

He...was a lot stronger than he looked. I paw dazedly at the wall, staggering up as my vision struggles to focus. The Pekengeri is now fleeing. He moves fluidly, bounding like a squirrel down the hallway. I break into a run after him, heart ablaze with wrath. He thought he was going to get away.

"I knew you'd still come for me. Here, let me show you something. It'll be our little secret."

He has a container attached to his back, a flexible half-cylinder shape that bends with the curve of his body. The Pekengeri turns around, lowering his body to the ground. A segmented nozzle extends from the container, extending over past his head. "I'd stand back if I were you," he says with a grin.

I do stop, only because I smell something that seems highly toxic and burns my nose. I hold my breath, watching a green torrent of fluid shoot out from the nozzle. The Pekengeri moves, sweeping the stream across the ground in an arc; the liquid acts like magma on ice, burning several feet into the floor within seconds.

"There! Hope you're an Olympic hurdler." The Pekengeri cackles and runs off. The gap is growing longer as I watch and there's no time to waste. I pick up a sprint, jumping. The other end doesn't get as close as I want it to be. "Clank—!"

"Got it." He extends my jump and I land on the other side. The only problem is that I land unbalanced on one foot and the floor literally melts under me. I tip over backwards, then fall down the opening.

Clank teleqwarks us up to safety. I don't mind that being his new favorite gadget, but I think I just shed several pounds of fur from that improvised warp. At least it wasn't a limb because I'm already partially crippled now. I quickly hover after the target, who's moseying along halfway down the next hall.

He looks over his shoulder, silver eye widening in in shock before I slam the wrench to his head. He gets knocked sideways into the wall, narrowly recovering and darting away before I swing at him again.

"Aye, easy there! I'm gonna need you to tone down the hostility before one of us gets hurt, compadre!"

"This won't be over until one of us goes down."

He draws something from his cloak and raises it above his head before throwing it down. I cover my face, hearing a huge pop like a balloon exploded. It's a flashbang. Even with my eyes covered and shut tight, the effects still get to me. I regret opening them because now it's like I'm looking out from the inside of a spinning washing machine. Oh man, hope I won't hurl.

"It's time to talk now that we're calm," the Pekengeri hisses. He moves closer, quickly coming within several feet of me. Clank jumps down and addresses him. "Excuse you."

"Whoa, now! I figured you'd be doing something else besides helping him carve my skull out."

"What must be done will be done."

"…well, shit. Makes me feel good about my chances," the Pekengeri mutters.

"Anything that you have to say will be used against you later," Clank says, implying that he didn't want to murder him like I did. "Furthermore, you can cannot be justified until you cease resistance and are in a controlled environment."

" _Now_ we're resonating a bit better!"

I unexpectedly jump on him, going for the closest part of him I can reach. His arm. I return the favor and snap down on it, hard enough to see stars. The intruder shrieks and pulls his arm back. I growl in response, not letting go.

"For the love of everything holy!" the Pekengeri howls. "I thought we could be more civil than this!"

He was the one that bit me first, so I don't know what he was getting at!

He slaps me, catching one of the gashes on my face. That only pisses me off more. I bite down even harder, wrenching my head back and feeling his flesh stretch around my teeth. The smell of his blood grows tenfold and makes my ecstasy skyrocket. He tastes so good and I want to kill him dead. A major pause on that.

"Do you want me to douse you in this highly potent and corrosive acid?!" he bellows. That sounded like that'd arrest the development of things, so I let go. The smell of blood still drives me to tear him apart, but I think I'd save that for last. I couldn't get anything done now if he kept moving around so much.

The Pekengeri backs away wearily, cradling his bleeding arm. His invisibility must either be a natural ability or activated by some unseen factor, because he doesn't move as he disappears again. What gives his position away is the next door on the right opening. Oh, and the dark trail of blood dropping from seemingly nowhere onto the floor.

I cackle in delight, grinning as I pursue him. He's run into a lounging room. I listen for a moment, then turn my head over to the refrigerator. Scratching. He was behind it. I run over, inspecting the area.

There's a hole in the wall behind the refrigerator. If I tried I'd be able to squeeze through. "Keep running more, why don't you?" I wedge the wrench in between the wall and appliance, forcing it to crash down to the floor. I throw myself in the opening, squirming through. It's still a really tight fit and I need to pull myself forward with my right hand to move quicker. If I didn't have such a big head it'd be easier than this.

Thankfully it doesn't get too narrow to where I couldn't keep going, and I emerge into a closet. I groan. The guy really liked closets. And it smells like him all over, old and new scents. I narrow my eyes, looking through the near darkness. He had to have been hiding out here the whole time.

A sliver of light catches my eye and I look over; he'd been looking at me from the corner. He hisses at me then ducks out of sight.

I gasp sharply, clutching at my heart.

The pain is like a sudden lightning strike and leaves a tingling paralysis in my chest. A pained scream leaves my mouth when I'm hit by another wave of torment. The entirety of my backside and tailbone feel numb, a sensation that's slowly crept to the rest of my body without notice. Was it because he bit me?

My heart palpates under my fingers and I hyperventilate, slowly walking to where he'd disappeared. If I ever had a heart attack this would probably be what it feels like. I stop, take in several deep breaths, then ram my head into the wall as hard as I can. It hurts but the new pain distracts me from the previous one. I couldn't keep going like this...I needed to hurry, before he got away or I got tapped out. I elbow my way through the low passage after him, keeping my head ducked as I stalk across the jagged metal ground.

I hold the wrench up to give me light. The light starts to stretch and bounce off the walls of the widening passageway. I'm peering ahead, trying to see if I can see him, when I step on something taut and snap it.

 _THWING._

Something whistles in air for a split second, then strikes me hard enough in my side to make me stumble sideways into the wall. The jagged sides of the tunnel dig into the entire right side of my body, but I hardly notice.

Something is hurting. Bad. I haven't taken another breath yet, feeling my heart flutter nervously as I look down, dazed.

A knife is pierced into my side, where my armor thinned. It's buried up to the hilt. A lukewarm, trickling feeling spreads as blood seeps from the wound, matting my fur. Not good...

Two emerald headlights approach me from the dark, bright with alarm. Clank. Oh geez, I just realize I must've left him back in the hall somewhere when I ran ahead. "Watch out…" I gasp, inching away when he almost knocks the handle of the knife. He freezes when he realizes what he's looking at.

"...Ratchet," Clank's tone is horrible, grief-stricken, "what _happened?_ "

"I don't…"

"Be still. I will call for help."

"… no," I say, gnashing my teeth together. I would not let that Pekengeri get away. Not when I was this close.

I force myself up like I'd just simply tripped. I feel oddly sublime now, like I was watching things from another perspective. Maybe it's just shock. The hostility that drove me to this point is gone, leaving just the instinct to survive and pursue. Just for a little bit more.

Clank is nagging distinctly in the background, but I tune him out. He wasn't going to talk me out of this one. I drag the praetorian wrench behind me, refusing to use it to light the way and just follow the trail using my senses. The tunnel gets smaller and eventually bottlenecks, and I approach another crawl space with a bit of dread. I couldn't get through that with the knife sticking out my side.

I grasp at my mouth with a hand, almost choking from how hard I dry heave. I was going to bleed out now, I know. But I don't have any other choice. For the sake of keeping the rating acceptable, I'm just going to say this was going to suck as hard as a supermassive black hole.

I gently take the knife by the handle and that small action causes tender shocks in my side. Oh, God. I can't think about it. Several seconds I spare, panting like I've run a marathon and preparing myself. A heave escapes through my clenched teeth and tears prick at my eyes as I tug once, feeling pain lighting though my body. Out of fear of not bringing myself to do it, I bite down hard, clench my muscles and _pull_.

I scream as I gradually pull it out, giving a triumphant scream when I fully dislodge it. I throw the knife to the side and weakly fall against the wall. My knees are shaking, my legs almost feeling like they're about to give out. I'm reminded of the injury on my left hand when I press it to the wound in my side, and something in my wrist pops. I buckle, my breath shuddering out between my teeth. Needed to hurry...

Blood leaks past my hand, making soft plops as it drips to the ground. I walk to the opening and fit myself through, dazedly watching red splatter from around my fingertips and to the floor. Crap...it's a white carpet. Hope Talwyn wouldn't mind. I hone into the door and wander outside. "Heh heh..."

The Pekengeri is in no rush, fully visible as he slinks off down the hallway. He had obviously thought I would fall to that trap he set.

"Hey, appetizer."

He freezes at my voice, stumbling misstep and hitting his jaw against the floor. He whips his head up and around, eye glowing in alarm.

"Who ever said I was done with you?!" I take my hand from my side and raise the praetorian wrench, charging it until a magnificent ball of electricity is perched on the end, violently twitching like a caged wild animal begging for release. The Pekengeri looks frozen on the spot.

"Let's set this straight once and for all. You're finished," I give a manic laugh, feeling static crackling at my entire face. " _I swear it!_ "

When I take another step forward he finally reacts, giving a shrill yelp. He turns and gets several feet before he's struck in the back.

The Pekengeri screams as the charge spreads and encases him entirely. His body writhes frantically, trying to break loose. The smell of burning flesh is strong even from where I'm standing. His voice is drowned by silence and the current suspending him in the air disperses, electricity licking up the walls and floor as his body drops to the ground. He gives one last twitch before falling still.

I got him. I…I got him! I didn't get to beat him as much as I wanted, but he's finally down! It takes me several seconds to realize I'm laughing to myself. I don't know if I'm more happy or relived.

"Oh...YEEEEAAH!" I roar, lifting my head and arms up to the ceiling. Oh, yeah. I feel good.

I'm granted several more seconds of the feeling of victory then lurch forward, breathless. The wrench falls to the ground as I land on my hands and knees. There's a lot of blood on the ground. There's no way it could have all come from me, though. I would've been dead by now.

My lungs feel like they're deflated and I'm out of breath, but I can't stop chortling to myself. It helps ease the pain. Well, this wasn't good, I just remembered Talwyn telling me to be careful. Whoops.

With a one last, weak gasp I tilt over, collapsing to my uninjured side. My breathing is shallow and it hurts worse with each breath.

"Ratchet, speak to me!"

My vision's getting reaaally fuzzy and I can barely focus on Clank when he suddenly appears. The look on his face probably would've startled me in any other situation.

"Okay…I will. Stop looking so sad…you walking can of sardines. C'mon, smile." It takes all I have to point a finger down the hallway. The thought of fried calamari makes me giggle. "We got 'em…hey, remember to deep fry and serve him with ketchup on the side."

"Enough! Cease this talking at once!"

His voice is growing more distant with each word. I don't even bother to listen anymore, lying my head down and shutting my eyes. My heart is the only thing I can hear, yet, I realize that might change very soon.

But it's fine. I said I'd take him down if it was the last thing I'd…


	8. Clank's Conundrum(s)

It is commonly considered that robots are incapable of feeling the same frequency of emotions as organics. That is a highly unreasonable notion, for the terror I feel now is enough to make my thought processes cease.

My limbs refuse to move out of shock, and I cannot take my eyes away from the sight of Ratchet lying in a pool of what was supposed to keep him alive. It was simply jarring to see so much blood at once. My mind refuses to accept that, logically, he is supposed to be dead.

"Sir, you've got to keep him stable until we make it there!"

I cannot pinpoint the source of the voice or whom it belongs to, but I do process the instructions given and find myself starting to move once more. Slowly, my mind starts to cope with the scenario and I feel my rationale returning.

Yes. I must stop the blood flow somehow. That was the priority. I take Ratchet by the shoulders and try to pull him over to his back. My feet slip in his blood and I scramble to keep my footing. Gradually I rock his body over, my eyes falling on the main source of his blood loss. That was where he had pulled the knife from his side.

I reach mindlessly in my radiator core for something to utilize. Something feels a bit heavy, and I almost fall over as I pull it out. A basket. I quickly throw it to the side like I had picked up poison. It slides and bumps to a stop against the wall, almost looking dejected.

Feeling a bit more frantic, I search until my hand falls on something soft. I draw out a pink handkerchief next, and a bitter laugh almost escapes me at the irony.

After folding it I carefully wedge it into his side, past his armor. The light color rapidly turns rosier, but diffusion laws dictate it must be behaving as some sort of concentration gradient. I leave that be and step between his legs, shouldering them. Via elevation, I could divert blood flow from other parts of his body to his head. That would extend his life that much longer.

But, I struggle for varying reasons. Using the reference that organics carry two point five percent of their total body weight in each leg I have a little over five pounds on each shoulder. That throws my balance off, as does the slippery conditions of the floor. Metal does tend to slide easily on areas with low traction, but I would much rather be on ice than blood.

Then there is my left arm. It is weak and had not responded to most of my commands lately, however I am surprised it is bearing weight without difficulty now. I will not overlook my fortune.

Each second that passes is one less that would keep Ratchet alive. My worry is overwhelming, for I have already seen him die once. I did not want to see that again.

I rotate my head around completely, believing to have heard something. Finally, it sounds like help is coming! It seems like the entire platoon is stampeding judging by the noise growing in the distance.

A green blur hurtles around the corner, shooting like a firecracker down the hall. I jitter as the pounding footsteps on the ground increase, and almost fall over when Qwark screeches to halt before us. He pulls something out then hands it to me. If 'handing' was defined as giving me a full body punch.

"Here! Use it, use it, use it!"

He has given me Nanotech. I move the sodden handkerchief and apply it to Ratchet's side. I cannot tell if it closes the wound up all the way, but at least he was not bleeding as much. Qwark starts shaking me.

"Clank, what's wrong? Why isn't he waking up?! Oh _no_ , I got here too late! I knew I shouldn't have had that third sponge cake this morning! Now he's gonna go up to that big workshop in the sky!" he bawls.

"Hush! We need to take him to the medical wing, quickly. Be careful about how you pick him up."

As Qwark stoops down, I hear another commotion down the hall. Three Rangers are now approaching us, but a fourth is at the corner, looking impatient. "Hey Hammer Chin, hurry your slow ass up!" WD-1 commands.

"Wow, talk about the disrespect...!" Qwark mutters, standing up with Ratchet in his arms. He does not appear to notice the red staining his suit and pursues the doctor. "Sir," D07 points to the Pekengeri, who was surrounded by the other two Rangers. "He still appears to be alive. Do you want us to put him in the stocks?"

"Yes, and make sure there is someone watching him at all times. Be cautious when you remove that device from his back as well. Place it in one of the vaults in the weapons hangar for the time being."

I leave them to their duties, quickly heading to the medical wing. There is a large, Qwark shaped hole in the wall. Even if he had disobeyed the command to stay, him taking the initiative had saved us precious time.

As soon as the door opens I come face to face with Talwyn. Something seems to fade out of her eyes when she sees me. I realize I am still covered in blood.

"Ms. Apogee, I—"

"What happened?"

Her voice is weighted with nothing but misery. I begin to make an utterance of an apology, something to make her feel better, but she passes me slowly. The bed covers from her hospital bed are in her grasp and hang off her shoulders, dragging the ground. I have never felt as bad for her as I do now.

"Enough!" Someone inside the medical wing snaps. I watch after Talwyn for another moment, then redirect my focus inside. Qwark is trying to peer through a floor to ceiling privacy curtain, but a purple, four fingered hand forces his head back out.

"You are _distracting_ , hnngh," Dr. Shemp hisses. "We cannot work with you looking over our shoulders! Please, leave."

"Qwark, let the doctors work," I tell him. He does not look happy but nonetheless trails over to me.

WD-1 gives an indistinct, but slightly annoyed exclamation. "I know. I am sorry I did not bring any, but I have a replacement," Dr. Shemp says. "It is better than nothing."

The Fongoid doctor comes from behind the curtain, retrieving his medical bag. "Are you positive that won't cause any complications?" WD-1 calls. "Tsk, it's not like we have another choice. Grab that roll of gauze on the table right there for me."

"I'd better not see signs of malpractice," Qwark mutters once we leave. " And what are you doing, trying to flag down a taxi?"

My left arm is moving on its own, stiffly waving in the air. I surely had not noticed it was doing that. Annoyed, I knock my fist to my shoulder plate until it stops. Qwark looks at me suspiciously. "Hmm. Is it me, or do you need medical assistance too?"

"It is not urgent. I will fix this later," I say. "Just stay away from the medical wing for now. I am going to go talk to Ms. Apogee to see if I can make her feel better."

Qwark gives me an almost sarcastic smile, blinking his eyes. "I'm sorry, what? Already trying to defuse _that_ bomb?"

"I must. If I do not…she will be in a troubling mood!" I say indignantly, raising a fist. "I cannot let that stand!"

There is a very pregnant pause. "Oh, fine," I add, a little less confidence. "I am nervous. But there is no one else to comfort her, is there?"

He gives a shrug, shaking his head. I walk away hesitantly, then call over my shoulder. "At least wish me good tidings."

"Pfft! Good tidings? You're gonna need blessings, pal."

It would be most unwise to visit her covered in blood. After cleaning myself off, I end up standing outside of Talwyn's room for thirty minutes, calling in to her and trying to coax her to let me in. Her door would not activate, so she must have locked it from the inside.

"Ms. Apogee, please. I would like to comfort you in any way I can. I will not even speak if you do not want me to. I do not think you should be alone right now...so, may I enter?"

I wait for a little while, but there are no signs of change and she refuses to come out. Perhaps it was too soon. I consider coming back later when my auditory sensors pick up a slight decibel of sound. I hear slight shuffling, followed by a faint beep. The door was now unlocked.

I enter a bit cautiously. The covers on her bed are rustling slightly as I come in, but soon fall still. Talwyn is lying on her side with her hands covering her face.

Careful not to put too much strain on my defunct arm, I climb up, sitting off the edge of the bed. Periodic sniffles come from her direction, and my concern for her wellbeing rises. I do not believe I have witnessed her cry before.

"Clank," she says suddenly, "what do I do?"

I am certain of the approximate context of her question, but sense that she was speaking rhetorically and remain silent as she continues.

"Every time someone close to me has slipped away they take part of me with them. I'm tired of feeling this way, like I'll never be whole again. It's things like this that make me wonder how I can continue to live if…everyone around me can't."

I look at her, disturbed by her words. "Talwyn…"

"Clank, I…I mean...it's just hard to comprehend. That's why it hurts so much."

She gives a large sigh, pulling her hands down far enough for her eyes to be seen, staring ahead at nothing. "I don't even understand how something like this happened. What were the both of you thinking?! You didn't think to call for backup before you engaged?"

"That would have created suspicion. He likely would have fled if he saw he was severely outnumbered."

"No!" Talwyn cries, almost hysterically. "There had to have...you couldn't have..."

"That Pekengeri excelled at using methods of counter-surveillance," I say gently. "He had traps and very well hidden hiding spots. Ratchet had a difficult time keeping up with him."

"So this guy was just that good, and no matter what Ratchet would've ended up in the medical wing?" Talwyn asks angrily, clawing at her sheets. "Nonsense! Clank, I saw...there was so much blood...there was nothing that _you_ could do?"

"You know how he gets when he does not want to listen."

She exhales in a large sob, burying her head in her pillow. I immediately feel bad, but there was nothing else to be said to make my point. "Where did it go wrong?"

"That is questionable..." I mutter to myself. Talwyn lies still for a few more moments, then rises with her attention on me. I suddenly feel like I am being heavily studied.

"What...was that? That nonchalant answer," she is frowning slightly, though if it is from anger or puzzlement I cannot tell. It seems best to stay silent after the remark, but that has a negative affect and she outright scowls. "Okay, is there something else you have to tell me, because suddenly I've got this feeling that there is."

"I do not have anything else to say," I insist.

"You're not the best liar."

"I am quite positive I speak the truth."

She groans. "You know better than I do. You were there. How is what happened questionable if you were there and you saw things unfolding? I want to know _what it was_ that happened that will likely cause Ratchet to _die._ Here, let me adjust and put it in a way you'd think of it. What variables, big or small, contributed to the outcome of that mission?"

The question is far too deductive. My answers were not based upon a logical or even truthful foundation and I cannot answer it in a reasonable manner. "I cannot seem to find any." I say, hesitantly.

Talwyn looks off. "Since when do you not notice details like that? What are you saying, then?"

"The attempt was our best, but we were affected by unforeseen circumstances."

"So barring those circumstances, you guys did everything perfect."

"Yes," I say, hoping that would be the end of it. Her face grows taut and her jaw clenches slightly. "Clank. _What_ are you not telling me, other than the truth?" The coldness in her voice shatters my composure.

"I…I…w-well…"

"You're stuttering, Clank, you never do that," she says calmly. "Do you know how suspicious that makes you look right now? _What's_ going on?"

As quick I have gotten lately with keeping truths dampened and hiding behind walls of ignorance, I simply cannot calculate an acceptable response. Perhaps it was because I was mentally exhausted, or the fact she appeared she wanted to rip off an arm and beat me with it. If so, I hope she chose the one that was not functioning fully.

"Ms. Apogee, please…" I begin feebly. "We had just gotten back from Igliak, where we learned about the intruder. He needed to be apprehended the moment we got back."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable." Talwyn stares at me intently, as if expecting me to continue. She has backed me into a corner and will not let up.

This would not do. Ratchet was supposed to be the one to tell her about his mental incapacitations and the drawbacks it created. The topic had not even been hinted at, but it had become so deeply ingrained in our recent way of functioning that it was the point of origin from which most, if not all of our current issues had stemmed from.

 _I_ personally think things could have gone differently if Ratchet had been able to unleash his arsenal on the criminal. But then again, I was not obligated to say such a thing.

So I stay silent, trying to think of another way to cover my rapidly unfolding pack of half-truths. I avoid Talwyn's stare to focus more on my arm. It chose a decent time to be a distraction, as it was buzzing slightly in agitation.

"What is it?" she asks quietly, sounding hurt. "Better yet, why keep it from me?"

Talwyn sighs, absently drawing invisible shapes into her covers. "...I _knew_ there was something going on between you two, from the moment you first arrived. I stayed back because I didn't want to be a nuisance. But if there's any reason for me to not pry now, then you'd better give me a damn good one. _Clank!_ " She barks. " _Give me something!_ Does what you're not telling me have _any_ relation to what I'm referring to?"

I tilt my head slightly in a nod. "And I was perfectly fine with waiting until whatever he had to say needed to be said. We were going to talk, you know that? But do you see where it's _lead?_ " Talwyn asks angrily, raising her voice. "Was it WORTH it, keeping it a secret from me?"

"I am unsure," I admit. "I do not think the answer is not a simple yes or no. Times have changed and the situation seems to continuously escalate. Neither of us were expecting that."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"It is not my place. It was his decision to keep it a secret, and I must respect that."

Talwyn says no more, wilting slightly and looking down at her hands in her lap. Her eyes have clouded over. For minutes she sits and stares, hardly moving. It does not even seem like she is breathing.

"I am sorry," I mutter.

"It's...fine," she says, the jest as obvious as her pain. "If that's what you both agreed on, I won't bother you about it again. Sorry for prying you like that. Let's just...forget we had this conversation in the first place."

"Will you be alright?"

"That depends. I won't be if something happens to you next," she gently takes my left arm. "You've been fidgeting with your arm. Is something wrong with it?"

"Yes, I sustained this injury recently dealing with the Pekengeri," I answer hastily.

"Pek-what now? Well...you can give me the details later. You shouldn't be walking around when you need repairs. Come on…we're visiting T34 to see if he can help…"

I grin nervously. It was better late than never…

* * *

Over the following days it takes me a while to get used to the new wiring in my arm. It is still a bit stiff, but it should loosen up with continuous usage. Talwyn has progressively gotten more active as she recovers from her own recent assault, but her mood takes a downwards spiral.

I do not doubt her inner frustrations seek a release, which is why it is no surprise she drops what she had been doing to go to the stocks when D07 tells us the Pekengeri had regained consciousness. If she notices me following her she does not say anything.

They had placed the Pekengeri in the room that had been meant for Psyclops. He has been bound to a pole in the middle of the room. His long tentacle-like arms are weighted down on either side of him by metal chains that come up from the ground. There is a collar around his neck. His head is slouched forward, but the glimmer of his silvery eye is already on us as we walk in.

Talwyn stands motionless for a few moments, and I can see her trembling slightly. "Who do you think you are?" she asks lowly.

"Funny. I thought you'd be asking me which way I'd prefer to be executed."

"That's an appreciated foresight. In the meanwhile, I'm going to try to exercise some mercy and give you a modest chance. Why shouldn't we have you killed for what you've done?"

The Pekengeri sputters in amusement. "The question bears little impact on me. I've made enough marks on the universe as it is. It would be unwise choice on your part, because…I deem myself very valuable to you."

"That may be a valid point, but you can only be of use to us if you cooperate," I tell him.

"I take it he's the smart one?"

Talwyn's lips are pressed so tightly together the skin around her mouth has flushed. The Pekengeri leans back, lazily scratching his head on the post.

"Honestly, I don't know what else you expect from me, Apogee. Wait, don't tell me. You're still upset about all the holes I punched in your property? All that can be fixed with a little TLC from unpaid workers. You've got several dozen of them."

"Those entrances were made using that device on your back, were they not?" I ask.

"One hundred percent correct, Clankmeister, even though you already knew that and wanted a confirmation for Miss Sassafrass over there," he stops scratching himself, then grins. "Where's Qwark?"

"He is…somewhere," I say, realizing I have not seen him in a while. Oh dear, I hope he has not gotten himself into trouble. You never know with that one.

"Even if he was here, why would you want to talk to him?" Talwyn wants to know. The Pekengeri drops his head suddenly. To my disbelief, I start to hear snoring coming from him. Was he narcoleptic? I take several steps forward, curious.

"BOO!" he shouts suddenly, making me stumble and fall on my back. "Lookin' a little tipsy there, Clank!"

"Enough of this!" Talwyn marches up and draws her blaster to his face. "You are going to speak and you will do so now."

The Pekengeri clears his throat. "I'm sorry. I have been insensitive to your feelings and clearly need to learn respect. Since you feel the need to threaten me with violence, I have no choice but to comply."

Talwyn looks triumphant. Until he sticks his head out to the side, looking down at me. "So Clank, ready to hear what I have to say?"

" _You…!_ " She hisses. I catch her eye and shake my head. Furious, she backs away and stands behind me, crossing her arms. The Pekengeri lifts his head and gives a long, audible inhale.

"Isn't it a simple pleasure of life, to be able to speak without having a gun's barrel shoved at my head? Now, where were we? Right, Captain Qwark. Tell the guy to lose some weight."

"Is…that it?" I ask, stunned. "…why?"

"Think a little harder and you might find out. Look, let's lay down the facts here. I overstayed my welcome, caused trouble, broke spirits, etcetera. End of story. Can we move onto the sequel, where I become more relevant?"

"You must not expect us to move on as quickly as you do. You still have things to answer for," I say. "Like being the only culprit to release our prisoner from the cryostasis chamber. That alone can warrant heavy punishment for you if the Polaris Defense Force felt so."

"You'll thank me for that later. At first, I just wanted to do more property damage for the giggles, but then it ended up being an impromptu plan to set him free."

"So you did it out of amusement?!" Talwyn demands. The Pekengeri says nothing.

"Did you?" I ask.

"That's an obvious answer, Clank. C'mon, I thought we'd be on the same page by now! Trust me, more trouble would've come from him staying here than him being free as a bird! An ugly, overinflated, cybernetically-enhanced bird."

Talwyn scowls, shaking her head in disgust. "That is not your place to decide that," I say.

"Logically…it is," he says. "I know how he is like a cockroach that refuses to die. I am sure he had a backup plan in case he failed! Even if I had not helped him escape…who is to say that he would not have _another_ way to unhinge himself from your trap?"

"Cut the nonsense," Talwyn snaps. "It's the only thing you're capable of speaking."

"Oh, I'm sure you've got more of a political tongue than I do."

"One moment," I say thoughtfully. "I am still trying to figure out how he left the grounds. It was by circumstance the grid was down, but I cannot imagine how he evaded our detection."

"You are still underestimating him. Who's to say that he can't survive in space or more? I wouldn't dare. We Pekengeri have a lot more than meets the eye. Get it? Because we all have a single eye? Ha ha I'm so terrible…"

Talwyn closes her eyes, raising a hand. "Stop, just…stop. I don't believe it. You expect that to pass as an answer?"

"And what is it I've said that doesn't make sense? You may be blatantly ignorant about my decision to release him, but I assure you it was a good intent from the dregs of my heart," he lolls his head to the side, focusing his eye on me. "Clank, have I spoken a single lie?"

"Not from what I can detect," I say cautiously.

"Such a gentleman! Keeps the answer ambiguous as to not upset the lady! But the thing is, about the one you call Psyclops—who knows if he even cares about the point of his original visit here? He wanted I, the so called skinny whore, to assist in purging you all but I soon discovered I did not want to continue to be apart of his efforts. But, what is this…? You tore his one hundred percent infallible, expertly crafted campaign, to nothing," he snakes his head side to side. "And not a single thing was honorable about the way you made him retreat."

"Is he that desperate to make another attempt at what he wanted?"

He motions to me to come closer. I do, if only because I trust the bonds holding him.

"It's a drastic change in priorities, when, survival was initially your only hope but your revenge ends up becoming the only way you can succeed. I am almost positive he now lives with one sole intent. That is to make Ratchet suffer as long and hard as he possibly can for insulting him and all he stands for."

"What about myself?" I demand.

"You are eager to share the punishment? What a true friend to the end! You scarcely have significant others that are willing to go that far nowadays. Usually, all opposition, no matter if feeble or strong, is regarded as an equal offense in his mind. But I think you are a side piece, a little add-on...you are just a mere fragment of his ire in comparison to your friend. Psyclops is a rather troublesome fellow, can we agree on that?"

The Pekengeri leans forward a bit more, gazing at me intently. "We no longer have to be enemies even though the initial scenario painted us as such. Furthermore, we mustn't let people like him exist, all for the sake of their feeble sense of righteousness. He is dangerous, but even he can be overcome if we band our efforts together to stop him."

I say nothing, eyeing him carefully. His attitude was devious, but I sense the truth in his words and intent. What a puzzling individual. Talwyn comes closer. "Stop talking to him," she says shortly.

" _Nyeh heh heh heh!_ " the Pekengeri cackles. "So...you want my attention _that_ badly. I know you've been _so_ lonely, and that there's been no one around to hear you out, princess. Consider this," he grins gleefully, eye glinting. "If Ratchet doesn't make it, then who's going to comfort you at night when you cry yourself to sleep?"

Talwyn screams piercingly, making my insides tremble from the waves of raw fury coming from her. I flinch and cover my eyes, unware she has furiously stormed out until I hear the doors shut.

"Oh, waah. I wonder how long she'll be cruising down Heartbreak Boulevard," the Pekengeri says, amused.

"That was _uncalled_ for," I hiss. "Why must you insist on picking on others? It was what got you here in the first place."

"Don't worry. This is a controlled environment."

He sucks in an audible breath, then retracts his head. With an almost comical _pop_ he pulls it out of his collar, then spills forward, quickly drawing his tentacles out of the metal cuffs holding him down. I back away, raising my hands defensively. "Stay back."

"Whatever you say." He streaks away with blinding speed, placing himself between myself and the door. "Say, did you mean stay back from _you,_ or the door? You weren't clear."

My method of escape was choked, and I calculate that I have roughly two point fourteen percent chance of beating him in a straight fight. There was no other option. I relax, though I watch him closely. He appears to be doing the same thing, unmoving with his head lowered close to the ground. We have a stare off that spans several healthy seconds. He inches forward slightly.

"Explain yourself," I demand.

"You want me to explain that sorry excuse of lawful detainment? For starters," he holds up his tentacles serving as his arms, moving them in a fluid wave motion. "I've got as much of a skeletal system as a desecrated corpse. You guys were a step behind before you even started. I needn't say more. That'll spoil the… _mysteriosity!_ " he strikes a pose, pointing towards the heavens. " _Shabam, baby!_ "

I am not amused.

"That's enough about me. I want to play cards with you, chico," the Pekengeri says, drawing even closer to me. It almost seems like a subconscious impulse that he has to be moving constantly, yet his body language does not suggest hostility.

"I decline. I am _not_ in the mood for any of your games."

"Whoa, relax little guy. You act like I'm a second from ripping all your brainwires out. I won't disobey your orders, Clank. If you want me to stay away, I will. If you want me to put myself back into the stocks, I will. If you want me to knock all my teeth out and make them into a necklace, I will!"

"...get back into the stocks."

He moves again, slowly this time, slinking across the floor. He does not waste one second squeezing himself back into the restraints, until it looks like he never moved at all. "There. Oh," he squeezes his head upwards into the collar, grunting in displeasure. "I _do_ have a spinal cord. Ahhh, I hope I didn't give myself whiplash."

He starts to roll his neck, muttering to himself. I do not know if I should leave to preserve my safety, or stay. It did not seem he was intent on bringing harm to me and he seemed even more willing to cooperate without Talwyn here. That had to have meant something.

"You appear to be more mobile than I thought," I mutter, watching him suspiciously.

"You don't want me to roam again, do you?"

"I do not."

"Then simply put, I'm not going anywhere…until you say so," the Pekengeri says, grinning. "But to be handed a choice, or to make your own…you'd better know what applies to this situation."

"Stunning. I did not realize that you were the type to do whatever they want, whenever they want."

He barks with laughter. "Every time you open your mouth, I become more convinced that you're one of the last bastions of intellect in the universe. Now, using that intellect, I request an evaluation. Tell me…what do you think of me, Clankmeister?"

"You have been a nuisance. But not the worse one I have experiened."

"Really? Clank, have you started to accept me? This might be a touching moment, if there wasn't stuff attaching me to a metal pole sticking out the ground. On a completely unrelated note, want to know my name?"

I wave a hand in conformation. "It's Prince Juggalo John Shark the Sixteenth. Nah I'm kidding," he cracks, and I mentally groan. Oh joy, someone else with a sense of humor similar to Ratchet's. "It's Eyesac."

"Isaac?"

"No, _Eyesac_."

I lower my eyes at him. "I am sure that is how I pronounced it, but fine. Very well, Eyesac. Tell me more about yourself."

He pauses, part of his hood above his eye creasing roughly like an eyebrow. "What are you, my shrink? I just don't know where to begin, Dr. Clank…but since you asked, I think I feel like giving a little lesson about us Pekengeri."

"I would be interested in learning more."

Eyesac gives a raspy cackle, tongue curling. "Of course you would, my little scholar. It's just a shame that, even with your intellect, you would be wasted potential if you stepped foot on my world's soil. You would be looked down upon just for being who you are but in the grand scheme of things, nobody can help who they're born as," he chortles a bit. "Our creation just happens, sometimes without us wanting it to."

"Why would I be thought of that way?"

"It's despairing. Embarrassing, really. We Pekengeri have the potential to create a supercomputer to the likes of IRIS, yet let trivial things determine how we should view and act to each other. See how small you are, compared to me? If I were to go by my society's rules, you would be my inferior before we even exchanged a single word."

"You mean…size? As in one's physical dimensions?" I ask. "That is how social classes are determined?"

"Just _listen_ to how shocked you are. _Such_ a privileged reaction," Eyesac says meanly. "It's nothing more, nothing less than that. It follows the primitive mindset of basing something's value off its appearance. It threatens to create a rigid fate for many, simply because they are always put in a certain frame of mind. They are never allowed to fully be free. Hmm...that brings our current patriarch to mind..."

"…I have noticed something," I say thoughtfully. "Out of the three of you Pekengeri we have met…it was the smallest one I believe, that seemed to dislike his position the most. Psyclops was the one who led you both."

"So you noticed. And I try not to slip into such a poisonous mindset, but it so ingrained I cannot help it sometimes. When I discovered we were traveling to exterminate two galactic heroes, I expected big buff guys that wear their testosterone like it's cologne. Not some scrawny cat and a talking toaster."

He cackles, then seriously adds, "Hey, that makes you guys more impressive in my opinion."

"Hmm," I narrow an eye. " _Any_ way, I imagine social barriers like that must be highly agitating. I assume there is nothing that can be done to overturn them?"

Eyesac chuckles. He tilts his head back, roaring at the ceiling with laughter. After a few moments D07 sticks his head in the door, weapon raised, but sees me shake my head and leaves.

"Nothing will alter the laws grounded since the dawn of time. Not matter how optimistic, how driven for change you are. You come to see that quickly as a Pekengeri, Clank, however _I_ am unable to live like that. I knew I had to fight to make my existence more than just a judgement based off my physicality! And I did…" he nods sagely, drawing one of his tentacles across his mouth. "That, I did."

"How would you describe your existence, then?"

"You're too much of a good guy to understand. Goody goody two shoes, goody-goody two shoes!"

"I am here to try to understand. Will you please tell me?"

"Since you asked nicely, I commit murders by request. I have a very steep list of guidelines that contractors have to fulfill before they can even _fantasize_ of asking me for my services, but I guarantee ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent satisfaction, if only out of reasonable plausibility. Oh, and—don't tell my mother. She'd be upset at this sort of thing."

He adds, "But, don't worry. As you saw earlier when you were at my complete mercy, I don't off people I like."

"Is that so. I assume you do not feel the same about Ratchet."

"No, let me lay it straight! I swear I wasn't trying to do that much damage. I was trying to slow him down so I could make a run for it."

"I found a _knife_ sticking out his side," I snap.

"Did…you say knife? I—ohhh," Eyesac bites his bottom lip, his teeth looking dangerously close to puncturing the skin. "Oh. Right…well, that's dandy. Just dandy. I admit I did set that tripwire up back when I didn't want anyone to follow me in. I totally forgot about it, I promise. It was just my luck I didn't set it off myself…"

I glare at him, and he rears his head back. "Oh, come on…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Don't you believe me?"

"You leave me with mixed feelings. I do not have a strong reason to trust you yet."

"I've been completely honest and that still doesn't amount to anything? At least it'd be fair for you to return the favor. I don't have to talk to you about anything, Clankmeister."

He turns his head grotesquely in a full hundred eighty degrees, refusing to look at me. This is all baffling. His mood has changed radically. Now it almost seems like I hurt his feelings. And to be honest, he was right about being fair.

I wonder how much legitimacy the notion of fairness holds now, as I stand before a criminal who has doubtlessly done countless of bad deeds. Yet, he seemed to seek my acceptance. There are no logical explanations as to why.

But if I am to get closer to finding out more about him and his kind, I must at least honor his ideals.

"I do not object. You make a valid point," I say. He peeks at me, then turns his head around fully.

"Hmph. Let me elaborate, just to settle things. When I say guidelines, I mean parameters about who I target. Out of all of them, the most basic one is no juveniles. I bet you thought I went out dunking babies into tubs of dirty bathwater, didn't you?"

"Then what are your willing targets?"

"Eh…other criminals…robbers, pirates…the kid down the block that's always blasting loud music that also has a dungeon full of slaves," Eyesac looks at me expectantly. "Those types of folks."

I do feel a bit more relieved he was pushing the boundaries of grayer morality than black. It was still bad, but not the worst I have ever heard of. "That does make you a bit distinct. I suppose I can see why you were hired for _this_ job."

"Distinct? Whoa, whoa. Amigo, amigo, _amigo_ ," he sneers, "I am _Eyesac the Basilisk_. The name that has been bestowed upon me by my people, the name feared... _by millions!_ I am unparalleled. Though, even I make mistakes...one of them being that my pride clouds my judgment at times. Lately, that's mixed me in with a group of diehards that chase after illusions."

He pauses for a moment. "Maybe that ended up being a good thing. I cannot tell yet. But that Psyclops is underhanded, to the nth degree. Undoubtedly, the biggest two-faced chump I've ever known."

"If you are implying that he has a deceitful nature, then that is additionally bothersome." I agree. "The other part of what makes him dangerous is his tactics to stay inconspicuous. I do believe the other one of your kind said a similar thing."

"Yes, Optner? It's no secret the little guy hated what he was being dragged into. I think he was the only one out of the four of us to really curse his existence when he realized he was involved in worthless affairs," Eyesac flops his tentacles to the side in a shrug. "Oh well, can't say I don't blame him!"

"He did express heavy contempt about…" I stop, reprocessing his words. Four. Mathematically, that was one more than three. "Did…you mean to say four?"

Up until this point, a smile that was either mischievous or patronizing had rested on his face. Now Eyesac's expression changes radically, gaining a surprisingly serious edge to it. "Right," he says quietly. "Here I am, speaking as if you knew…yes, there were four of us that came along in total."

"I was not aware…"

"That was the intention. I will say this, and you would be wise to listen. You can hold me, Optner, and even Psyclops to some extent, responsible for our actions," Eyesac says gravely. "This person, this _woman,_ is the sole cause of the chaos you have endured lately. She brought us together and we are but ripples of influence that originate from her. If your anger was to be directed towards anyone, it needs to be her."

The way he describes the situation reminds me of the effect of gravity in relation to the fabric of space and time. Something that was present, almost impossible to observe, but still gave hints of its existence by providing a perceptible effect on everything around it.

Gravity is almost like a Grandmaster, selecting where those under its control moved like chess pieces on a board. It held all control while its pawns remained in blissful ignorance.

"Tell me more about her," I say thoughtfully.

Eyesac hums to himself, rubbing his mouth along his collar. "I've only heard of her by ear. She's some doctor. I know that Psyclops respected her enough to take orders from her. She might be _his_ boss for all I know. Maybe…she's his _momma!_ "

With that, he drops his serious tone and cackles to himself. "Eyesac, focus!" I say, growing urgent. "Do you have a name for her?"

"None of them are appropriate but when we talked about her, it was always The Doctor this, The Doctor that. And I've only been calling him this because you guys got me hooked on it, but clearly, I don't know Psyclops' identity either. There's things I've discovered about them both, but that pales in comparison to what I'm _not_ aware of," Eyesac pauses. "Clank, let this be a reminder to do research on the people who go out their way to hire you."

Four. Another one we had to be concerned with, and from the sound of it, the most detrimental. The feeling of alarm is arising within me. I need to report this matter quickly.

"Do I see the clockwork twisting in your head," Eyesac says, amused. "Don't panic…if you want to try to dig a bit deeper on her, you have another source of information. I gather you dispelled his cover, but you didn't kill Optner, did you?"

"He…he is incapacitated on planet Igliak," I say, stuttering in my shock. "Eyesac, are you positive it is just the four of you that came along?"

"As far as I know, then yes I'm positive."

"Very well. I must go."

"Hold on, there's something else I need to say."

I stop and glance back at him. "What is it?"

"How hard would it be to drag Ratchet here so we can have a face-to-face?"

"Not hard, considering he might come to you himself. Not for a talk, if I had to warn you. I can relay a message."

He shakes his head. I turn around to face him fully once more, drawn in by his hesitance. "I think that would be for the better. I think it is too soon for you to try to speak with him."

"It's never too soon to take a worthwhile risk. I'm cool with you Clank, but you're just a secretary."

"How eloquent," I state dryly.

"Don't take it the wrong way, I just…...hm," Eyesac broods to himself for a moment, then smiles a bit. "Oh, fine. There's no harm in explaining it to you. Maybe then you'll see it from my point of view."

I scratch my head. I suppose the new news could wait. Nonetheless, I am about to tell him to speak with haste when I see the air near him rippling like water. He does not seem to notice.

"Communication barriers may try to hinder me, but my points will make leaps and bounds over them! Different people break the ice in their own way, so we'll just have to opt for a little, ah… _misdirection_ in this case. I'm very adept in that field, as you know."

The space around his head warps, and two shapes pop into view. Their forms are translucent, hardly visible, but I recognize familiar contours, feel the weight of the air start to vibrate with an innate force that only I can sense. They were back, once more. They have been appearing a lot lately.

"Let my society's ideas of social stratification be damned," Eyesac hisses lowly. "I see an intelligent mind within you Clank, and I need you to lend me your strength now when it matters the most. It is your decision to accept or decline. What I have to say, what it entails, is not meant to fail you…but you must promise me you will trust me to see that!"

I am unable to take my eyes away as they fly around his head like energetic angels. I am conscious of their activities, while focusing on another outside stimuli. This was different. Their appearance here, at this exact point…

It must mean something. I remain silent, trying to piece together his words and their presence into a reasonable conjecture. One of the Zoni darts forward.

 _"Listen, sire. Let him speak his words."_

" _Let him, let him!"_ the other one added. That was all I had to do now, it seemed.

"Clank…what will you choose to do?"

I choose to accept.

* * *

An hour later sees me in the presence of Talwyn, who was still fuming. I am too preoccupied with my thoughts to have any meaningful input, though it seems she is solely intent on venting.

She is pacing around the couch I am sitting on, muttering to herself and hair standing on end.

"I need to calm down. I can't let myself get worked up like this. How _frustrating_ …" Talwyn stops, snapping her fingers. "That's it. I'll shove my curling iron into his eye socket!"

"Definitely," I mutter to myself.

"You agree Clank? Good," Talwyn says feistily, hitting her fist in her other hand. "Already I've gained another advocate for some old fashioned conditioning!"

Oh, that was a poorly timed vocal and completely unrelated to her ideas of torture. Before I can clear this up, Qwark comes in holding a stack of DVDs. Talwyn absently rushes past him, stepping on his foot, and the predictable outcome is him jumping and hurtling them everywhere. Somehow most hone into me and bury me in a pile.

"Ow! What in the…what's the rush?" asks Qwark. I stick my head out of the pile right as Talwyn groans, bringing her hands to her face.

"Qwark, what is it?"

"You sound like you're having one of those days. If it has anything to do with that scoundrel, then do not fear! I've found a way to get that ruffian to cooperate!"

"Lucky guess," Talwyn says angrily. "If it involves putting a bullet through his head, save that idea until we're cleared by law to do it."

Qwark raises his brows up, cutting his eyes to me in a questioning glance. I wave him over, lowering my voice.

"He is very selective in who he speaks with. He talked to me, only after he blew Talwyn off."

"Is that any surprise? You have that delicate way with words Clank. Some of us could learn from you!"

Talwyn clearly hears this, and I am surprised his head does not explode from the look she gives him. He starts picking up the DVDs. "These are archives of cut content from the seventh season of Lance and Janice. That season was of the most undesirable quality, from the acting to the fore…sight of the directors. I tried watching several episodes, but only thirty seconds in I start to convulse like crazy, my mind goes blank and I black out!"

"There are doctors here. I would tell _them_ that," I say slowly.

"No sane creature can watch more than five minutes of an episode before losing themselves to horrible screenplay and treacherous writing! It's the ultimate form of torture!" Qwark exclaims. "But you said you got him to talk, so I'll see if I can find a landfill to dump these in."

I chuckle. "Rather unorthodox, but an interesting idea in theory."

"But you know what?" Qwark says sharply. "I think I wanna have a talk with this criminal. He wouldn't dare deny _me_ answers! He shouldn't even deserve due process, because he committed the number one infraction of trying to off ME! Former President—and ambiguously revered—Captain Qwark of the Polaris Galaxy!"

"It's not ambiguous that people wanted to impeach you from day one," Talwyn says flatly. "I'd heard some nasty things about you during your run. You know a lot of people still want you to die and stay dead, right?"

"That sounds more like a personal bias to _me._ Clearly, the common person doesn't understand just how stressful it is to overlook a galaxy with trillions of intelligent life forms in it! I was just talking to Ratchet about this and he literally told me the same thing. I'm starting to think you both have it out for me."

Talwyn stops dead in her tracks, hair whipping at her cheeks as she whirls on him. "You talked to him? _When?!"_

"Oh, I'd say about thirty minutes ago," says Qwark, whistling as he stacks his DVDs up.

"You didn't tell anyone that he was _awake?_ "

"I walked in, got abused, then had my political qualities belittled. Where was my chance to tell you in all that?"

She rushes out the room. Qwark sputters air out the corner of his mouth. " _Touchy_."

"Qwark, you must realize why."

"You people still think I'm as shallow as a puddle," he rolls his eyes. "She's probably the biggest victim here, even before me. But her attitude's not gonna help anybody."

"I…oh…" I am speechless at his moment of self-awareness.

" _Yeah_ , uh huh. By the way, you might want to chase her down and get to Ratchet before she does," Qwark says, picking up his questionable content. "That stuffy-headed Regina called not too long ago. She wants you guys to go to HQ."

I snap to attention. Does this mean the Pekengeri survived the attack? If so…there was more to be done! I stand up, accidentally bumping Qwark on the shin. He staggers and the stack of DVDs in his hold lean dangerously. "Oops, sorry, heh heh…"

"Man, what's got you so worked up all of a sudden?" Qwark wonders, as I run away.

What was his name, Optner. If he survived, I would need his cooperation to find out more about that doctor. It was highly bothersome I did not know much about her, and so was the feeling I would not know all that I wanted too. Judging by our first time talking with him, he was less willing to speak in comparison to Eyesac. That might be an issue, but…maybe not. I had something I did not before, and that was his gratitude.

I remember him begging me to help him while Ratchet tore him apart. That I did, and it was what I was hinging on to help me get through to him.

When I approach our suite I slow to a stop, listening. I hear not only Ratchet, but Talwyn as well. Their voices are too low for me to understand their words at first. I inch closer, unable to stop my curiosity from eavesdropping. Their tones do not suggest they are having a pleasant conversation.

 _"Didn't think you be upset…"_

 _"…thought I made myself clear?"_

 _"No. Geez, do I really have to say it again…?"_

I take one step too many and accidentally trigger the door to open, exposing myself. I freeze, already starting to apologize. "I—"

" _Save_ it," Talwyn snaps. "And I don't want to hear that excuse come from you again, do you hear me?"

"You keep calling that an excuse and it's not. I already told you why I did what I did."

I cover my hands with my mouth, eyes wide. Ratchet and Talwyn are standing ahead with their arms crossed, looking deeply into each other's eyes. They were so into the conversation they did not hear me come in.

"Can't you see why I'm so upset?"

"Talwyn, of course I do. You just don't realize that you can't always get what you want, can you? _You're_ the one making this harder for yourself. You're the one making this black and white when it isn't."

I back away awkwardly, slowly exiting the room. I think…I should wait until they get done.

But where to go? I wander around in a circle for a while, feeling out of place. I still able to hear their muffled voices. Perhaps I should just go start tidying up for now. Yes, I did have a list on file somewhere…I start to dig around for it, then I hear the door open.

"…glad to see you finally agree with me on something," Ratchet is saying over his shoulder as he comes out. Talwyn comes into view behind him, looking unhappy.

Or…maybe the conversation had grinded to a sudden and likely rough halt. I still do look suspicious standing in the immediate vicinity—not implying that I had _not_ spying at any point, but still. When Ratchet sees me, the delighted look on his face would have erased any indication they had argued if I had not just witnessed it myself. He kneels, playfully rubbing my head.

"Hey there, buddy. It feels like I haven't seen you in forever. Did you miss me, too?"

"Yes, not that my answer was hard to anticipate," I answer, eyeing him with dissatisfaction. "You still look exhausted."

"I'll live. It got _so_ boring lying in a hospital bed for hours."

"Ratchet, are you still supposed to be bedridden?!"

"Uhhh..." I can practically see his brain loading an acceptable response. "Maybe? Now don't get worked up, here!" he says hastily. "You want me to get weak from not using my muscles?"

Muscle atrophy could incur from lying down for too long, so I will let him have that. "Ugh...that will pass. For now," I say sternly. "Since it seems you are fully mobile yet, Regina would like for us to go to Igliak. I do not know what she wants, but it might have something to do with the Pekengeri."

"You seem really eager to jump back into business. You've been up to something, I can tell. What is it?" Ratchet asks, as we start to walk away.

"For one, I managed to interrogate the Pekengeri we captured."

"Without me? Aw, you had all the fun to yourself…" Ratchet says, his grin fooling no one. I clear my throat, shaking my head up at him, and he simpers. "You're better at that sort of thing than I am, I guess. So, what'd he spill?"

"I will give you details on the way there. It was surprisingly easy..."

* * *

We are literally touching down at the Headquarters before I realize something. I look over, horrified to see Ratchet flying one-handed. "Have you been doing that the entire time?"

"Yeah, doctor says I can't be putting too much stress on it," he says outright, of course finding nothing wrong. "Did that really take you the _whole_ flight to realize?"

"But I could have..."

"You had your head shoved up in space clouds, so no. You probably would've crashed us," he cracks.

Blast! It is almost a curse to be so wrapped up in my thoughts I fail to notice my surroundings. Well, I suppose this meant his confidence was coming back.

We enter the headquarters to find them unusually full with other members of the defense force. The receptionist desk appears to be empty, but there is a large stack of magazines on it. "Hey guys!" Regina says, popping out from behind it and holding a comic book. "Wow, I didn't expect you to be here so soon. Don't tell anyone, but I took about several hours' worth of magazines from the waiting area. Follow me! By the way Ratchet…nice stripes."

She bounds over the countertop. Ratchet stares after her looking perplexed, slightly mortified, and I chuckle to myself.

"So first things first, the guy we have is like, alive, right?" Regina says, leading us down the hallway. "But it's been so hard to have a discussion with him because he slings insults left and right like mud pies. Like, the really gross ones. What's worse is that I have no soap to fix his mouth! _Wherever_ it is. Seriously, how he talks is a mystery in itself."

"He is here, correct?" I ask.

"Yep, in one of our detention wings. The teleporter's over there!"

When we step in it, nothing happens. Regina bounces on her heels for a few moments, waiting. "Uh huh, just give it a second…any day…right…now!"

Ratchet and I instantaneously vanish and reappear in a sterile room, minus the General. "Whoops, forgot her," Table says disinterestedly. He is leaning on a wall nearby with a new Holo-pad. "Oh well, it's not like she'll contribute to anything useful! So! Eyes over here, gentlemen."

Behind the cell bars at the other end of the room is a spherical tank about twice my size, filled with a greenish-blue liquid. Inside I can see the Pekengeri, facing away. His tentacles ripple like seaweed and I notice the prosthetic ones seem to be gone.

"We rigged a stasis chamber in here so he could recover, then be drilled like the conspirator he is," Table says, looking at the creature with disdain. "One of those things has been far easier than the other. You think you can give it a different approach?"

"I believe so, yes," I say confidently. "It pays to be mindful of whom you are interrogating. The Pekengeri we have at the space station was perfectly fine as long too much pressure was not placed on him."

"You already cracked down on that one? Get ready to work your magic, Clank, 'cause I've sure broken the limits of my patience dealing with _that_ little firebrand," Table pushes his glasses up to his hazel eyes and adds, "While I'm looking at this though, lemme go ahead and break some news."

He scrolls through something on his Holo-pad. "I was looking into a recent surveillance report. We haven't been able to track down the big guy you told us about, but there has been some suspicious activity going on with a planet for a while now."

"What's the planet's name?" asks Ratchet.

"Sentinus. We have minimum information about it on the database. Basically, it contains a few indigenous species and has a climate similar to Morklon. Hardly anything special, you'd think, but we've noticed an increase of traffic to and from it. What creatures live there are too primitive to make or fly spaceships," Table says, shutting his Holo-pad off. He reaches through the bars of the cell, resting a hand on a silver button on the tank. "Folks here think it's Space Pirate activity, but I doubt it. They've been a bit low on the crime radar as of late. I personally think that someone else is using that lonely little planet as a hideout, but it's only a matter of time before we really know."

He turns his attention to the tank. "Has he been ignoring you like this?" I question, noting how the Pekengeri has not turned to acknowledge us.

"He can't hear us and vice versa," Table presses down on the button. "Now he can."

Optner turns around, narrowing his eye at the Captain with critical dislike. "It's you again," he states, voice slightly warped by the liquid he is submerged in. "What do you want?"

Table simply stands to the side. When the Pekengeri sees us his expression does not change, but he sighs and rolls his eye.

"Yes. Of _course_. I figured I'd be seeing YOU guys before long. So now what…why are you here? To transport me to jail, or to poke fun at me?"

"Neither," I reassure, and he looks skeptical. "However our last encounter did not play out fully, if you follow. There must be something more you know to assist us."

Optner crossly looks away. "I don't know what else to say."

"You can give me a conformation about your kind."

"How so?"

"Do you know how to count to four?"

His eye jerks back to me quickly, quivering. He timidly undulates his tentacles, floating a bit higher.

"We have captured Eyesac," I add, "and he has already cooperated with us fully. It is how I found out about the doctor. Care to elaborate?"

"You caught…" he blinks slowly, then goes back to his trademark annoyed glare. "Why am I even surprised anymore? Snooping louts with noses the size of a Class A star carrier. Fine, smart guy. Yes, you're right…she's _the_ Doctor. Don't know the evil broad's name and don't want to."

Despite his hostile tone, I can catch the barest hints of stress. I cannot imagine what this woman is like if she causes fear in her subordinates by merely being mentioned. "Is something wrong?" I ask.

"N-Nothing…it's just…nothing. She's got a heavy hand in technological modifications and pretty much equipped me with everything that you, well you know…witnessed. All of us were...modified by her in some way or another. We were designed to be a high-functioning team."

"That has been a distinct pattern," I say. "If I were to make a guess she sought after certain, individualistic abilities or traits then tried to heighten them by her own means?"

"It also works in reverse. Boy, does she love to find someone's weak spot then screw it with a rusty fork!" Optner cries in sudden anger, rolling his eye. "Then she cleans up the mess you've become afterwards."

"Is that so?" Regina asks sternly. We all jump and stare, but she does not seem to notice our shock as she walks up. "That means you're apart of her cleanup crew. Don't put her on blast and try to play down your wrongdoings. Just by association you're as bad as she is."

"NO. That is the _incorrect_ answer, Medusa. This is happening all because things got screwed up _again_ and the situation _screwed me over_ , AGAIN," Optner raises his tentacles out, voice rising. "How you think you can try to blame ME for this, I have no idea. This was their idea and their idea ONLY, that's screwed me. And just because you don't have the main perpetrator, you feel obligated to take it out on the scapegoats?"

"Why shouldn't we hold you fully accountable for what you've done?"

"I couldn't help what I did."

" _Bunk_. All this time you refused to talk, and now you choose to say something like that when your credibility is destroyed?" demands Regina. "Are you serious?"

"Woo freaking hoo, you've opened your eyes to the obvious truth. You disgust me, you airheaded, military snob. You would never make the attempt to believe what I have to say even if you gave me a chance. Do me a favor and drop yourself off the highest point on Igliak."

Regina glares at him but surprisingly does not retort. Table's eyes narrow slightly behind his glasses. I lower my hand, shaking my head at Optner. "Please," I say, trying to regain the situation. "Do not be so hostile. You must not make assumptions."

"Why? Making assumptions without evidence seems to be the mainstream thing these days."

I walk closer to the cell. "We need to reach common ground. As such…what you say here will not be held against you."

"WHAT? Clank, are you _seriomphhh_ …." Regina bites her knuckle hard, until the skin almost breaks. She gives a furious, muffled shriek. Table gives me an unsure glance. "You sure you want to go that route, Clank?" he asks steadily.

"Yes, I am. Pardon me, but do you mind?" I ask. He raises his hands and backs away next to Regina, who's red in the face and pulling at her hair with her other hand. Ratchet continues to watch silently.

"Wow, I'm liking this change of pace," Optner says. "If you all had fallen through the floor that'd be the icing on the cake. What do you want, trash can?"

"Bear with me, now. I want to hear you out. Explain the aforementioned scenario that started this for you," I say carefully.

"I'd have to jump back into a giant shitstorm to start."

Now I wish I had soap with me. "There is a beginning to all conflicts. Start small if you must."

"Ugh, FIIIIINE." Optner glowers and leans in close, lowering his voice. "I'll make the effort, but this is ONLY because you did me a solid, got it? May as well be a parting gift before I get sent to a high security prison again."

I smile at him. "My hope is to tone down that pessimism of yours. You may find yourself with more chances to do better for yourself and others."

"If you say so, oh magical guru of hope, happiness, and sickening sentimentality," Optner says sarcastically. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then speaks for all of us to hear. "I just didn't know what to do. I wanted to be free."

"You'd been in prison before," Ratchet says quietly.

"For a case of delinquency. It was minor," Optner mutters. "Even then, our penal system is so jacked I knew I would live the rest of my life in there. It was one night when…I heard a bunch of racket. Namely, voices of ne-er do wells that probably like to beat up crotchety old people for fun. They...the inmates, start running down the hallway, to freedom! No one would even stop to let _me_ out…"

He stops for a moment, then scowls. I can tell he was not used to expressing his feelings.

"…I figured it was a jailbreak. I didn't know who did it, until _they_ showed their faces at my cell. The Doctor…and him. While I was still trying to make sense of things, they went and told me they needed me for something important. Said they were trying to do something for the benefit of our kind. Even then, I knew it was just melodrama."

"That was where you made your decision to be released, was it?"

"You think it was _my_ decision. No. No. It wasn't about what _I_ wanted. They didn't give a damn about what _I_ wanted," Optner says in a cold fury. His tendrils are rippling in agitation. "I sensed bullshit from the beginning. But you know what? It was either I say yes, or I die. They would have killed me if I would have denied. I _know_ they would. I would rather live and be pressured by the unfair garbage they piled on me than be dead, so I let them use me."

He faces away. "There. As long as we establish I don't have black heart, then think whatever. But I wouldn't expect anyone to understand."

"May I try?" I ask gently.

"Don't bother."

"Please?"

Optner spins to face me, a furious look in his eye. "Why, Clank? Huh? _Why?_ Is it so you can dry me of all my worth then toss me away like a rag in the wind, just like how _THEY_ did?!"

"Do not be ridiculous," I say, putting my hands on my hips. "Does that seem like anything that I would do?"

"If it has an intelligent consciousness, has lips and can speak, then it can double-cross." Optner says harshly. "So yes. You can easily be trying to play me, you can easily be trying to lie to me, and you don't even have to feel an ounce of sympathy because I don't _matter_ to you."

"I want you to give me a chance," I say sadly. He avoids my eyes, burning his scowl into the wall.

"Don't give me that look."

"I know you are very upset about how they treated you. But can we not make amends?" I ask. "I am not asking us to be friends, but you need to know I care for your wellbeing."

"You claim you care. Nah, nah, that sounds more like pity to me."

"I cared by saving your life," I mutter.

" _And?_ Shut the metal pothole. I don't care what you did or why. It doesn't matter to me anymore. So just leave me alone."

"Make me."

His eye slits. "What?!"

"I said, make me."

He stares at me in disbelief. I chuckle. "I am sorry, but you cannot expect me to just 'go away'. We may have no ties, but I am willing to form them with you."

"That's crazy talk! Why would you…" he presses his tentacles to the area near his eye, groaning. "Why? Why? Why? Why? After I was a complete dickhead to you? After I tried to kill you? Whhhhy? It's illogical! It must be a set up!"

"I suppose you are right when you say it is illogical, but I tend to look past the negativity," I say. "At least...I want to make the attempt. No one deserves what they did to you."

"Don't question someone's capacity to forgive," Ratchet tells him. Optner hisses at me, eye wide with accusation. "What if it's ALL a pack of lies?! Why should I confide in YOU, toaster head? You're just some robot shrimp from a faraway galaxy."

"I am not just any robot. I have a soul," I say simply.

"Ugh, you…you _can't_ expect me to be swayed by talk alone," he answers moodily, almost sounding choked. "You can promise me something today, but not even live long enough to follow through with it. Words mean nothing in the end."

I nod in agreement. Optner stays quiet for a moment, then huffs. "There's not even any point in getting my hopes up yet. The most I can say about you is that you're making an effort, so that's okay by me…I guess. You have a long way to go until I can take your words for face value."

"Have I taken my first step?"

Annoyed, he shoots me a warning glance. "Hmph…even so…that's without considering outside factors. I might be dead soon, anyway. It's that doctor. I failed, so she's going to try to kill me."

"Even when you are in a protected facility like this?" I question.

"Like I said, she will find a weak link and use it to get through. It's easy for me to picture, actually. Just find the sap willing to take a check of bolts, give them a poison capsule, then drop it in my tank while no one's around."

" _What?"_ Ratchet exclaims. "Don't you think that's a bit out there?"

"Dude, you found out that I was controlling a modified body," Optner says dryly. "Let me throw this out there, you want to know how we got Metnic in the first place? The fat whale fell into one of our traps after we sent her a coupon for…ughhh…free lubricant."

Both members of the Polaris Defense Force react in shock and disgust. Table's glasses slip down his face, and his eyes twitch. "Wh-What?"

Well, that was something that will not slip the mind easily.

Pushing those disturbing thoughts to back for now, I bring forth and idea that I have been stewing over. That was another subtle issue, having allies that were trustworthy. I am balancing on the edge of how far I can take this, but…

Yes…it could work, but with only careful planning.

"Optner," I address him by his name for the first time, and his eye perks slightly. "You need to help us so we can insure The Doctor does not make an attempt on anyone else's life. Is there some way for us to track her movements or help us locate her?"

"Why in hell would you want to."

Regina huffs behind me, but thankfully keeps silent. I am already treading on thin ice.

"I believe Ratchet and I have already explained why. It is our duty, even if you see it as an impossible or worthless task," I say. "In addition, would you not want justice for the way they treated you?"

"'My justice, my justice, my justice,'… _enough_ with all this justice garbage," Optner cries. "That word will give me nightmares from how many times I've heard it lately. In fact, what does it even mean anymore?"

"It seems to be one of those words up to personal interpretation, but that's not the point here," says Ratchet. "It says something that you're trying to keep us away from trouble."

"Because you louts are DENSER THAN HOT AIR."

"Yet, you still fight to try to convince us to drop the matter. It's of no benefit to you. You care a lot more than you're letting on."

"…No!" Optner says unconvincingly. "Okay you know what, fine. I can't take all this hounding right now. So here's what I got, since you masochists just _love_ to torture yourselves. There's some files on the computer she sent me. She used a proxy to cover up her true IP address so she couldn't be traced, but I'm sure you know exactly how to get past that, huh?"

He is looking at Table. The Cazar answers without faltering. "That's pretty clever of her but, heh, not the newest trick in the book. It may be a bit harder to track her down, but all it takes is looking into some of the local area network providers and we may have a higher chance of at least determining where she's been lurking."

"That's what I _thought_ ," Optner says.

"Riiight…you…do all that," Regina says slowly, looking lost. All confusion falls away and she perks, continuing. "We'll leave all our super smart people to that. Another issue we have is about the others in the Solana Galaxy. We don't really know for sure if they're still being targeted, do we?"

"Of course they are. She wanted Qwark _and_ Phyronix, no stops. She splits her attention on her priorities, so you'd better check on the president's daughter and see how she's faring," Optner responds flatly.

"Yeah…hey, you remember what we heard on that recording, Clank?" Ratchet asks me. "Sasha was talking about those suspicious aircraft, wasn't she?"

"Yes. A noticeable trend of your kind is the usage of some form of concealment or misdirection. I now have little doubt that those forces are related to her influence somehow," I say. "We also cannot forget about Psyclops, lest he takes us off guard again."

"Just how hard is it, to find someone who knows how to stay hidden?" Ratchet mutters.

"You're right, Stripes. I hate how he can just mysteriously vanish like the universe shat him out into a different reality," Optner says crudely. His eye widens in sudden panic. "What's the point of trying to fight it? We're all screwed anyway, because if he meets up with the Doctor again they'll just find ANOTHER way to succeed! Then if you stop them again, they'll come back again, and again, and…dammit, it's an endless loop! My existence is a recurring string of failures and unorthodox tragedies that never _seem to end!_ "

He stops, gasping for breath.

"I do believe you are quite finished," I say, breaking the awkward silence. "Thank you. What you have told us will help tremendously." Then, to the others I ask, "May I speak with everyone for a moment?"

"H-Hey! Don't be trying to pull one over me, you hear?" Optner shouts nervously. Table hits the same button on the tank. "Annnd you're through for the day."

"The two Pekengeri have an extreme dislike for their situation," I say. "Instead of imprisoning them, I propose that we adopt them as allies of our own."

My words are met with hesitance. "It seems like a worthy investment. We would have half of their original force added to ours. It just may tip the scales in our favor," I add quickly.

"I...don't feel that. That's a lot of trust you're putting towards the idea of them cooperating. How can we be sure they'll stay clean afterwards?" Table questions. "I know you mean well Clank, but it seems unlikely."

"Even with rehabilitation? Surely worst criminals have had their lives turned around."

I see a light bulb go off in Regina's head. "Oh! Like, what they do for people who've gone wacko?" she asks excitedly.

"They are not crazy," I stutter a bit on the last word, as the jury was still out for Eyesac's case. "They just require varying levels of discipline."

"Well then, maybe so, maybe not. We can't say until they're in that situation how they'll behave. That little one is, _ugh_...what an energy leech."

"That means, upon them defecting to our side, you expect them to work alongside us like Solana's forces do," Table gestures to Optner, who's squinting at us in suspicion. "Now we really have an idea of how thorough that Doctor's plans were, from her subordinates themselves. Who's to say she saw even _this_ coming and she had the intent to slip one of them in as a double agent? It's a huge risk, Clank. There's just so much we don't know about them yet."

"I guess…if you put that much trust in them from the outset, then we just need to be careful," Regina adds, uncomfortably fiddling with her pigtails.

There is a heavy crease in Ratchet's brow, and the way the corners of his mouth have shrunk in means he is not very happy with what he is thinking about. Even now, when I look at the injuries Eyesac had given him I feel guilty, like I am willingly slapping him in the same wounds again.

He slowly looks at me, regarding me with an odd expression. It is almost like he sees through me.

"I know it seems implausible, but please, give my idea the benefit of the doubt," I say, trying not to make it obvious I am avoiding his eyes. "I—"

"Don't explain yourself. If you really think this is the way to go, then I won't question it," Ratchet says tonelessly. "We won't know unless we give them a chance, period."

Bewildered, I look at the other two to see their final judgments.

"Euh...with the stakes we have now, taking a chance is a least favorable decision. But…okay, little man. If you think it's our best route," Table says with a wince, reaching into his bag. "I'll have to see improvement on their part before I can become fully convinced."

The Cazar pulls his Holo-pad out. "Let me just hop on finding some suitable places, get some paperwork done, then we'll ship 'em out. Gina, you mind taking this task report to the boss?"

She swipes the device out of his hands, startling him. "Seriously? Are you forgetting this is _mine_ and I let you borrow it? You go take the report to McNeil, and I'll look for a rehabilitation center."

"What? Now come on, that's just unfair!"

"So was you _magically_ forgetting to teleport me alongside Ratchet and Clank, forcing me to go up several flights of stairs to get here!"

Regina shoves him out the door before he can protest. "Now get to work! Before I forget guys, our scientists are doing research about the Pekengeri technology they recovered. It's the last thing, then you're clear to go!"

She dims the lights. I am the last to walk out, stopping to look back at Optner, and raise my hand to wave goodbye. He is looking skyward with two of his tentacles folded, giving me the 'shoo' gesture with another. I smile to myself. With time.

"Gina, can we have a minute?"

I almost trip over my own legs. The General slows to a halt, and perhaps I imagine her hair bristling. "I'm sorry?" she says evenly, facing Ratchet with a hollow look upon her face.

"It's...I just needed to talk to you about something." He looks at me, raising a brow. I show no sign of the nervousness within me and respond with a blank stare.

"Sure, not a problem. Clank? Go ahead and go downstairs. That first door on the left is where you'll find the people you need to talk to."

I see the request more as a reason to excuse myself than it being multitasking. I do admire Regina's ability to be so innocently deceptive. I now have the impression she is much more intelligent than the credit we give her.

I look over my shoulder, wringing my hands. I only know one other secret that was supposed to last to the end of time without being discovered. I do not know why I expected my own to be the same way.

CLANG. I bounce back, startled. Oh. It had not taken me long to reach my destination, and I must have run into the door. Seconds later it slides open and a Terachnoid pokes his head out, mouth quivering slightly as he looks down at me.

"Well, look at who's at my doorstep. You're the one with the XP-18 sisterboards, version 7.66?" he stands to the side, motioning in. "Come in, come in! We've got some things to discuss! Innovations, discoveries, information systems and algorithms!"

I am practically herded in by him. The Terachnoid swipes an arm across his heavily cluttered desk, papers and utensils falling to the ground. He places me down and pulls out a tape measure, wrapping it around my entire head.

"Ah, how refreshingly simple! The lack of ears, an occipital protuberance and/or supraorbital ridge makes this go by much quicker."

"Why are you measuring me, sir?" I ask, a bit taken back by his eagerness.

"Oh, don't call me sir—wait. I'm not using all my brains here and completely bypassed common social standards by not introducing myself!"

He picks me up, then scuttles and places me outside before withdrawing into his room. Several seconds later he comes out again, looking around in feigned ignorance.

"Hmm…I wonder where my guest is right now! This is a high functioning environment and we wouldn't want tardiness…oh, there you are!" he says, looking down at me. "Forgive me for overlooking you, _stranger_. You must be the one I am looking for!"

I tilt my head at him, and he waves a hand.

"Yes, I believe I am."

"Very well! Hi, my name, which completely disregards my status in the scientific world, is Teacher!" he takes my hand and shakes it. "What is yours?"

"I am XJ-0461, but many commonly refer to me as Clank," I tell him. He quickly pulls me back in.

"Alright, enough of that, we know each other. Now we can continue! So, you asked me why I was measuring you, right? I'm actually doing my partner's work. There's only a few liabilities involved with what we're doing. You mind if those stay a secret for now?"

"I do appreciate surprises, only if they are good in intent."

"I see we're going to get along well. Allow me to break the ice and talk shamelessly about myself and my feats, starting from childbirth! It all started when I developed an extra growth to my cerebral cortex…"

Something catches my eye. Over by the window I see a faded shape hovering in the air. The Zoni waves at me. I do not return the gesture but instead continue to watch it dart like a balloon being tossed by an updraft.

"Then I told them, 'I'll make tools of destruction that could make the head of Pollyx Industries himself jealous!' They don't believe me. They never believed me, just…just like my own mother! Just wait and see, universe! My research is going to be ground breaking…but only if you guys can jumpstart it by utilizing it in a reasonable manner! Ugh, can you believe I'm caught up with working double time because of my partner? I can't even work on my ingenious designs yet!"

He sighs, shaking his head. "I should expect single-brained organisms to be a bit on the slower side, simply because they lack the brainpower to keep up with beings like us. All is forgiven, if only out of pity…"

The shape by the window waves at me once more. This time I wave back and it quivers, almost like it is laughing. Teacher leans his head over next to mine, staring at the window.

"…whatcha looking at?"

"Nothing," I say quickly. "Forgive me, I was momentarily distracted…"

"I'll say. I bored you that much you started to wave at birds. But don't worry, we're moving onto the interesting stuff now," he tosses the tape measure to the side, then produces a vial out of his lab coat. "Guess what I've got? From the tech report I received, that Pekengeri used nanomachines to control that body."

"That is them?" I ask, leaning forward to get a better look. He hands it to me. It was a clear liquid saturated with hundreds of little black dots. I cannot make out any other detail; for something so plain looking they must have a lot of potential.

"Yes, and what luck that all the blood hadn't dried before samples could be collected! Forensics managed to spare some for me before cleaning it all up. About a pint. Yet, see how many there are? There must be at least hundreds in total," Teacher says. "If that Pekengeri could articulate a vessel that was not his own so smoothly, that tells me that these worked well in conjunction with whatever else input source was used for control. I have yet to figure out what makes these tick, but boy when I do…there's gonna be some new discoveries being made! And some ambiguously useful paraphernalia..."

He takes the vial back and puts it away. "Between us both, I used to be one of the Terachnoids that worked for Nefarious. I thought I saw a genius in him, getting hands on work with his ideas, but I really think this alone blows everything I've seen before out of the water. _Just_ because it's so complex in execution but simplified almost down to the microscopic level."

"From what I gather, the doctor that engineered them is supposedly unparalleled. She is held in high regard." Or perhaps fear would have been a better word.

"Wow…I don't care if she even has a single brain. That woman has my respect, whoever she is," Teacher lets out a cackle, rubbing his hands. "But you know what? I'm going to be respected in the same way, after I pick apart her work, add a little spin to it, then pop out with something better! Mwa ha ha ha ha….!"

I tilt my head, quizzical. Teacher stops laughing, cutting his eyes to me.

"…ah…right, ahem. Moving on. Why don't you meet with my partner? Heavens knows he's still working, even now…"

Teacher slides open a side door, revealing a cramped and dark study. Someone is sitting hunched, writing under lamplight. Bizarrely I think it is Ratchet at first since he stays up late at night doing the same thing, but then the white lab coat and the much wider frame register. Teacher taps one of his many feet on the ground. "At least tell me you're done with the diagnostic reports Phyronix gave you."

An exasperated sigh comes up. I am surprised to see that it is Big Al when he turns around, impatiently tapping his robot finger on the back of the chair.

" _For your information_ , I've been done with them for a while. Some people just want to go a little more in depth with their studies."

"Psh, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. The proof is in the results, no doubt," Teacher says, waving a hand. "Anyway, I pulled your exponential weight and got the measurements."

Al glances past Teacher, spotting me for the first time. "Ah, there you are, Clank! I apologize if this airhead bored you to near-death. You get used to it after awhile."

"It is good to see you well, Al," I say. "I did not expect you to be here of all places."

"Yeeah, I was already on Marcadia trying to investigate those suspicious spacecraft, but they sent me over since this was where most of the ruckus is."

He turns around in his seat, taking the notepad from Teacher and glancing over it. "So, bet you were a bit confused as to why we had to measure you. You react to certain growth technology right?"

"Solana Xternal G-X?" I question, tilting my head. "Yes, but I have not been exposed to it in years and have received many bodily updates."

"May not be compatible with it anymore, then. Hmm…"

"I knew you were unprepared for this! That means we'll have to be at _least_ twenty percent busier in these next few weeks!" Teacher says.

"Oh, silence while I concentrate!" Al snaps. "This just means I'll have to find a work-around, which is easily done! Don't you need to get cracking on your own project?"

"I most certainly will, and at least it's developed to where I could explain the basic premise to Clank, here. Wait a second!" Teacher grabs ahold of me, lifts me up then looks at the spot where I had stood. "Isn't…what's his name supposed to be here? The Lombax, where is he? I can't do a single thing yet without him!"

" _Heh_ ," Al grins. "Say Clank, where's Ratchet? I thought he'd come along with you."

"He did. He is currently occupied," I say, with a slight nervous remembrance. "I may know what you need to know, if it is about measurements."

Teacher stops clawing at his head and refocuses on me, shocked. He raises his brows, slowly reaching for a pen and pad. "Uh...do you really have all that memorized?"

In all fairness, most of that information has been long noted with minor changes here and there. It was not like he has grown a single inch ever since the day I met him. After I provide Teacher with what he wants, he and Al bid a hasty farewell and give me permission to leave. I am almost shooed out, stumbling a bit outside. I feel a curious sense of interest and sense that they are both onto something daft.

What that is, I suppose only time will tell.

That actually makes me recollect my own personal exploits, which I have put to the back lately. I look around to check if the hall is empty then reach into my radiator core, pulling out a sheet of paper.

I giggle to myself as I unfold it completely. Ideas may be stagnant on paper or float freely like birds in the mind, but there was nothing more exciting than the thought of bringing them to life.

I travel to the main foyer, which is now a direct contrast from when we first arrived. I am fine with the quietness. I am content with sitting on the front desk next to Regina's stack of magazines, going over my work in progress. Eventually the ticking of the clock becomes white noise as I become lost in my own ideals, oblivious to the outside worlds once more...

" _Hey,_ Clank..."

It had been a mere ghost of a whisper, yet I jump like I had been screamed at. I quickly discover that Ratchet is suddenly hovering nearby. Goodness, I had not heard him. I look anything but innocent as I hastily fold and store the paper, though he doesn't seem to have caught its contents.

"Whatcha doing?" His tone is pleasant but seems strained, almost like someone had a gun to his head and was forcing him to speak. I notice Regina walking up, her face pinker than Talwyn's. There are tears tracks on her face. "I'm sorry," she cries. Ratchet slides in and blocks her from my view. Something about his smile is dreadful.

"I guess it wasn't enough that I already worry about you too much sometimes. _I_ couldn't ever think of intentionally hurting you if I can't help it. You realize that, right?"

"Yes," I mutter. He snarls, leaning in until we are face to face. "Your ignorance won't fool me. You want to know what really nails it in? It's that you've brushed aside blatant facts and denying their weight when they're literally in front of your face."

"I see nothing that is unable to be corrected."

"Don't come at me with that. It doesn't matter what you think after the fact, and now, I'm trying to comprehend how you ended up with those half-baked thoughts _any_ way. Why is it," he continues, voice traveling higher in agitation, "that of all times, this is when you decide to shut down and act like absolutely nothing is wrong? Clank...we need to start being forward with each other, even if we're conspiring behind other people's backs at the same time. We need to get into that habit. Don't you agree?"

I nod, slowly. I cannot tell if he is more angry or sad. The latter seems to show more in his expression, but every muscle in his body seems to be taut and he is shaking a bit. Ratchet looks at me for a while, then shakes his head in disbelief.

"How could you keep this from me? You deserve better than that, Clank."

I do not say anything.

"Hold it out."

Slowly, I extend my left arm. He does not even acknowledge the movement, keeping his eyes on me. His teeth bare slightly. "...I can already tell. You got it fixed. You've really pushed the limits of your deceit."

"I...thought what I had done was for the best."

" _I almost bit your arm off!_ " Ratchet bellows suddenly, making me flinch. Regina gives a punctuated sob. "And YOU didn't tell me one. Single. _Thing._ How you thought that was the best decision, oh, ho ho _ho_...you got a few screws loose? Did I rattle your can too hard? Eh?"

Seething, he crosses his arms and looks away. "Ratchet, I am sorry…" I say. Disbelief crosses his face.

"Did you just...why are YOU apologizing?" he jabs himself in the chest. " _I'm_ sorry, how about THAT?! So how _long_ , Clank? _How long were you going to keep something like this from me?!"_

I sigh. I dreaded this slightly, having to explain my thought process, but I must stand for it. "I am not quite sure how long I wanted to have this discussion, but I feel now is far too soon. I kept silent because of the very way you are reacting now," I say, steadfastly. "Simply put. I am afraid if that is not the answer you wanted, you must still accept it."

"I hurt you. That is _inexcusable!_ "

"It was not your fault."

"Good joke. Next time make me laugh, why don't you," he snaps. "Unless you're about to tell me that my evil twin from an alternate reality came and switched places with me for that time frame, then no, I'm not gonna ever believe that."

"You were not in your right mind. You cannot take the blame," I tell him.

He laughs. "There! Perfect, right there, you said it. I don't care what other sentimental factors you have to add. If I won't stop trying to gnaw off your arm when you've called my name five, ten, TWENTY times, then I won't. That wasn't me then, Clank."

"But—"

"What? But _what?_ What would you have done if you didn't have my praetorian wrench? _Yeah_ , what would have happened if you didn't have something to knock me out with?!"

Ratchet paces back in forth in front of the counter, tossing his arms up. "Were you going to _talk_ me back to normal? You saw how well that worked. Don't take the blame, he says, _please_. Stop trying to convince me otherwise because you'll just be yanking my chain."

He stops, staring off into the distance. For a moment only Regina's slight sobs can be heard, echoing slightly in the empty lobby.

"My hearing has gotten more sensitive. I didn't mean to, but I overheard you and him whispering together," Ratchet says, his tone unnaturally monotonous. "When he mentioned you doing him a favor…it didn't make sense at first. But there was only one other time we'd come into contact with him."

I say nothing, stunned. Ratchet abates his anger, now appearing contemplative. "That's when I realized a lot of other things might've happened when…I snapped. Things I couldn't remember. I knew you told Regina and Table everything that happened because of the way they _looked_ at me when I woke up. You wanted them to keep what I did away from me. And I...I thought she was trying to kid me when I found out. I was hoping that was all there was to it."

He shudders, exhaling oddly. It sounds like a repressed sob. "I would rather it be a bad prank. Even if it's this elaborate, I...I'll forgive you both. Please…don't tell me I…"

A change seems to come over him and he slumps into the counter, sliding down until he is sitting. Fear seems to saturate his entire body, and his eyes seem to stare at a horror only he can see.

"Why…why did something like that happen? That's nowhere _near_ normal. There must be something…more wrong with me than I thought."

His voice drops into a helpless whisper, and the despair in his tone makes my heart break. I jump down, but he turns his head away. "I might hurt someone like how I did to you. I can't let that happen again!"

"Optner incensed you to that point," I say. "Even as odd as the occurrence was, it will not happen on an average basis."

Ratchet seems to ponder this for a split second then scowls. "How can you know that for _sure,_ Clank? The answer is you don't. There's something wrong with me pal, and I don't think even you can help me this time."

I do not usually think of resorting to psychical violence to prove my point, but I want to strike him for saying something so foolish. I take him by the arm, and he tenses up.

"Let go of me."

"No."

"YES!" Ratchet erupts, trying to pull away.

"You are not at fault here!" I speak, raising my voice. "You may be different than you were a few weeks ago, but you have not stopped being my best friend. I will not let a problem such as this come between us!"

"Then fix it," Ratchet hisses, "Fix it _right now_ , Clank, or else I'll do it myself."

"By doing what?"

He says nothing. I narrow my eyes.

" _What,_ Ratchet?"

"I'll lock myself in a room until I'm sure I can control myself."

"That is absolutely preposterous!"

"Oh it is, smart guy? Then _you_ come up with somethin' better!"

We glare at each other for a moment.

"What good will that do? What manner of judgement will you consider yourself safe to be around?"

"Instinct," he responds.

"I do not understand."

"You're intelligent, but you just can't understand _everything_ , Clank," Ratchet says coldly. "That's why we're having this conversation. You are _physically incapable_ of feeling what I feel. These unfamiliar impulses I've been getting grow stronger with each day, and I _draw the line_ when they take over and rob me of what sense I have left!"

It was true I could not feel what he did. But I still do believe this was a decision that did not need to be made from just an emotional standpoint. I open my mouth but he looks away, tugging his arm free. "Nope. Keep the lid on. Nothing you say will change my mind."

"I want you to think about what you are saying," I say sharply. "You need more than your own bearings to help you with this matter."

A vein on his temple bulges. " _Ohhh,_ boy...you're killin' me, Clank. I swear to all that is holy if I take _that_ risk and something unforeseeable happens, I'll be _done_. I c-can't…" his voice cracks slightly. "I can't take something like that again. I need you to see that."

"And I want you to see I am willing to take that risk to help you. I believe you are overstating your transgressions. Are you sure you are not reacting out of fear of the unknown?"

Ratchet turns his head, giving me a withering glare.

"I have always tried to help you even out your decisions using logic. I do not want to bring this up as a point, but most times I have suggested something it was the best option for the both of us. This time is not any different."

"Yes it is."

I frown at him. I am mere moments from losing my temper with his obstinacy.

"I am sorry," I state. "But I will not be an advocate for this foolish decision of yours."

"And I refuse to bear your blatant ignorance!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

I turn my back to him, crossing my arms. " _Fine._ "

The conversation is over. Ratchet gets up, and his tail whips at the back of my head as he storms off, footsteps disappearing out the door. If I had teeth they would no doubt be gritted in frustration now. "Curses," I snap quietly.

Someone touches my shoulder. "Clank…?" asks Regina quietly. "Um…I'm sorry. I figured that was what he wanted to talk about and I tried to act like I didn't know, but he said he could tell I wasn't being truthful so I caved…I'm sorry, I never would have told him anything otherwise, but I still broke your promise…"

"Do not feel bad. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he found out."

She sits down in front of me, lowering her voice. "I know this is me being super nosey, but…the way you guys were talking made it seem like this has been going on for awhile."

"It traces back to the accident he had recently. It had affected his head, in some manners that we are not expecting," I say. "But I am determined to find a solution."

"Does he need a doctor?"

"We had discussed that awhile back, but have become so distracted keeping up with the Pekengeri that it keeps slipping the mind. I need to go back to that consideration."

"I really wish I could help. But when it comes down to it, only you guys really know what's best. I hope you can work it out, Clank."

I will most certainly find a way. Ratchet may be stubborn, but so am I.

* * *

The word tension does not even full comprehend the flight back. Neither of us have not spoken a word and seem intent on staying on the far end of our separate sides of the front seat. Aphelion cannot help but to notice.

"So…how did the day out on Igliak go for everyone?" she asks.

"Fine," Ratchet and I answer at the same time. We shoot each other brief glares. Normally I would not be so passive aggressive, but I was not letting my ground on up this situation.

The rest of the ride is completely silent until we get to the Apogee Space Station. Once there, Ratchet is the first to get out of the ship, swiftly leaving the hangar.

"Goodness. What happened?" asks Aphelion.

"Yeah!" Qwark suddenly pops up from the backseat. "You couldn't have cut the air with a diamond axe!"

"Qwark, have you been back there the whole time!?" I ask, shocked.

"Maaaaybe. I didn't have to be there the whole time to feel the pressure. I mean, sheesh…what's going on between you two?"

"Nothing."

He squeezes to the front, wedging himself in the pilot's seat. "Ah," Qwark sighs, apparently not caring that his knees are up to his chest. He drops his head down to me, looking skeptical. "Don't lie, Clank. You're not good at it."

"Qwark, do not be concerned about it."

"I'll keep harassing you until you tell me!"

I quickly unbuckle myself and try to jump away, but he catches me and sets me back down. "I did not approve of that," I state directly.

"C'mon…I won't tell! Maybe your old pal Qwark can help!"

"Release me!"

He sticks out his bottom lip and pouts. "Clank, pleeease?"

"You do not need to be involved with this. It needs to stay between us."

"It can't be that bad. Besides, I judge you guys for other things, like the clothes you wear and the stores you shop at!"

I rub a hand to my face, considering. I never considered Qwark trying to butt in, but now that I realize I do not think we specifically omitted him. Only Talwyn.

And...since he did not mention Qwark's name…that gives me the consent to not include him in the persons to keep the secret from! I seem to have found a loophole. I glance at Qwark, and his hopeful grin is blinding.

"…fine," I hiss. "But this is only because I have found a technicality. What I am about to tell you is to not reach anyone else's ears, especially not Ms. Apogee's by any means. Aphelion, can you close the cockpit?"

Qwark hunches over next to me like a child in front of a campfire. I discover how much of a weight has been taken from my mind the more I discuss the situation to someone trustworthy. Qwark would not as emotionally invested as Talwyn would be.

Yet, his eyes have swelled to three times their normal size, wide enough to be traffic lights, by the time I conclude.

"What? _What? WHAAAAT?!_ " he shouts, grabbing and shaking me. "You mean you guys were hiding something like this?! For THAT long?"

"Indeed. We wanted to have a fabrication of normalcy."

"And you didn't initially include me in on it?" he starts sobbing into his arm. "…I can't believe this. I've been shunned!"

"Do not take it to personal offense, Qwark," I tell him. "Think for a moment about Ratchet's intent. Did you really want to know that he was incapable of using his full strength to protect you?"

"…oh. When you put it that way…" Qwark grabs the sides of his head, looking panicked. "NO! I would've been paranoid and wound up tighter than a square peg in a round hole! Clank, knowing one of my bodyguards is mentally crippled would've made me a bundle of nerves before what even happened happened!"

He pauses for a moment, then turns to me quickly. "Hey! You don't even have to warn me to not speak of this to Talwyn. Besides, even if I did, she'd take it out on me. So what now, after you two argued again like an old married couple?"

"I will just give him his space. Being overbearing when he is like this will not lead to positive results. I will go back to my normal routine."

"Normal he says," Qwark groans. "Nothing that's been going on here is remotely _normal_. When are things gonna go back to the way they were? I am not a huge fan of the story of my life now!"

"You must be mature about this. We still have a lot of work to do, or would you prefer someone trying to assassinate you once more?"

We get out of Aphelion, and he grumbles a bit under his breath. "Those Gecko-hairies, or whatever they're called…what a fine mess they've made! Help me out here, Clank. Give this bored, magnificent being something to do to amuse himself!"

I was waiting on that. I pull out a list and it unfolds, rolling across the ground for several feet. "Chores!" I exclaim, happy.

Qwark just groans.

* * *

Despite his complaints of boredom and reluctance, Qwark actually does me a large favor by participating in doing busy work. Of course, the Apogee Space Station's hallways have a cumulative length of at least a dozen miles so it takes quite a bit of time. After several hours of organizing stock, making a list of things to buy and things to fix, and dusting, we are still not done.

I dust my hands off, beholding the sight of the polished, pristine lounge. Every single crevice and crack where dust could hide had been fully excavated! I grin to myself. I was just as good as any air filter on the market!

"That will do for now. We have completed 52.78% of the list, so today was a successful venture."

"After a quarter of an entire day we're only that much done? Half of that stuff was nit-picky anyway. Who ever heard of sweeping the ceiling?"

"Do you know how much bacteria and other substances can accumulate there? Especially where the kitchen area is," I laugh. "For Talwyn's twenty second birthday, Cronk accidentally tossed a cake too high and it stuck to the ceiling for hours."

"Yeah, well. It's not like that type of stuff happens every day." Qwark grumbles. I look around, but do not see him.

"Qwark, where are you?"

 _SNAP._

"Look ouuut!" Qwark shouts. A broom drops from above and clatters onto the ground. I look up, startled to find him plummeting from the air, and dodge out of the way. The ground shakes when he lands and a rope is tied around his waist, the rest of which falls in a pile on him.

"Oh, my," I say with a smile.

"I sure hope you're happy! I usually have people doing this type of work for me," Qwark stands and starts to untie himself. "I am _done_. I've got dust in ten different areas and my back is killing me."

"You did very well, Qwark. Thank you for your assistance."

He gives an offhanded grunt, dragging the broom and rope behind him. It may be hard to bypass his usual antics at time, but Qwark is a valuable friend. Even though he is reluctant to show or admit it, Ratchet feels the same way.

Speaking of Ratchet, we have been all over the station in the past hours and had not seen a glimpse of him. Not even in the aquariums, when I went to go change the filter in the tanks.

I walk a bit slowly to our suite. Something compels me to stop before the door opens, and I fidget a bit with my fingers. I hope he was not still cross with me.

I take a venturing step inside. The room is empty, but to my surprise it is spotless. The bed is made, wastebasket empty. On the dresser my books are neatly sacked. I put a hand to my mouth, surprised when I notice how they are arranged. Ratchet did this. He was the only one who knew I preferred my books arranged by ISBN numbers, with the highest number on top.

I look at the only other item on the surface, a gold pocket watch lying no less than a foot away from my texts. A somber feeling creeps up in my circuitry as I look around once more. Our definition of cleaning varies drastically, but he seems to have leaned to my way this time. I cannot find anything out of place.

I close the closet door, which had drifted open slightly, and jump on the bed. The chores for today were complete and now was when I would be doing something a little more active. Something to do with to do with my best friend. I almost do not know what to do with myself now.

For minutes I sit, replaying our argument earlier. No matter what scenario it may have been, it seemed the results were a common denominator and could not be avoided. I could not have dissuaded him from talking to Regina, for that would have arisen questions then. There was no other way around this. It was supposed to happen and with the effect it produced.

I go and take a book, setting it down next to me. I should not be so hung up over this. There was going to be a way to reach a middle ground and make up. We always have been that way.

Feeling content with much more positive thoughts, I reach for the book on string theory to review when a subconscious 'ping' resonates through my head. It is a gentle pulse, like a wave that dampens my other senses. I look skyward.

 _"Sir?"_

"Sigmund? How do you do?"

 _"Excellent, sir! Just calling to talk to ya a bit,"_ He says cheerfully. _"I mean, it has been awhile since you stopped by, so…"_

"Are you getting lonely?" I ask, lowering my eyes.

 _"Oh no, nothing like that. I'll likely have to spend the next millennia alone, so why bum out about it? I figured you'd like to have an update on something."_

"That would be…?"

"This _is about the Zoni. Naturally, you're more attuned to the frequencies they run at, so you might be able to understand some of their behavior. It's been kinda sporadic."_

I say nothing, and he quickly adds, " _I mean to say…uh…oh cripes, how do I put this? Maybe I'm just cryin' wolf here…"_

"Have they shown more interest in leaving the Clock?"

" _Yes! And I know the whole_ random teleporting to different areas in space and time _isn't new for them, but now it's like…they're taking shifts. Yeah, that!"_ Sigmund says. " _I've seen some leave in a collective group, then come back hours later and switch places with another group. My entire time here, I've never seen them act like that. I wanted to see what you thought, since you're basically one of them._ "

"I am perplexed by this as well…on average, how many leave at one time?"

" _Okay, lemme see…add the two, minus four…square it, then…dah dah dah…_ " Sigmund mutters. " _…I'd say around several hundred, give or take fifty at any given time."_

"What?" I say, shocked. That was quite a few to go missing at one time, considering the amount of Zoni that stayed there numbered in the thousands.

" _That's why I was freakin' out! And it's not like they'll tell me where they'd been flitting off to. Tch! Just like a bunch of rebellious teenagers out on a night of fun, huh?_ Some _of us have to stay behind and manage a giant clockwork vessel that prevents the universe from collapsing!_ "

I think carefully for a moment before asking, "If I were to guess…this has been happening for the past fifteen days?"

Sigmund is quiet for a moment. _"…are you a psychic, sir? Technically it's fifteen days, three hours, and…"_

"Forty five point one seconds? Yes, I am aware."

 _"Sir…do you have some stories to tell, too?"_

"Yes, I do," I admit. "I have been seeing glimpses of them around lately. They seem to be invisible to everyone else but I, and refuse to show their tangible forms. They have been literal ghosts," I say, my eyes drifting to the closet door as it creaks open slightly. "Never before had they been this discrete."

 _"Wow,_ really?"

"Indeed. They do not seemed to be stressed, or urgent. They are just watching," I pause. Mostly. "While it seems odd, they must have some reason for their actions. All we can do is bide our time until their intentions are revealed."

" _You're right about that, sir. Whew, it makes me feel a lot better to hear your input. Sometimes it feels like I'm ten steps behind on everything here,"_ Sigmund says. " _Maybe not_ _everything…_ "

I give a knowing chuckle. Sigmund does as well, until I hear his alarm clock dinging several times in succession. He screeches in panic. " _Oh, cripes! I gotta reset the quantum calibrator in Fetak Terminal Beta before it desyncs. I gotta get going!"_

"Thank you for your time and effort, Sigmund."

" _Heh, what can I say, I gotta lot of both. See you later, sir_."

"Farewell."

The mental link between us melts away, and I am with myself once more. I jump down to investigate the closet, looking inside to see what clutter could have fallen on the door to open it. It is tidy in here, too! A slip of paper is lying nearby, and I pick it up.

 _Behind you_ , it reads. I smirk, refusing to look. I did not hear anyone come in…oh? There is an arrow drawn below the words, pointing to the side. I turn the slip over to the back.

 _Made you look!_

Ratchet actually has neat handwriting, but this was so messy I almost did not recognize it. He must have written this when he was half asleep. I shake my head and chuckle, just so happening to glance up.

There is no time for me to give an exclamation of surprise. Something, covered by darkness, drops into view like a lead weight and lands on me, knocking me to my back. I blink a little, letting my opticals readjust. I can make out Ratchet's figure looming over me, his eyes and teeth the most distinguished features as they were flashing white in excitement.

"What's shaking, buddy? You took forever to get back here, you know. I thought you flushed yourself down the toilet or something. Seriously, I was starting to get worried. Uber-worried, like a taxi driver on his way to his wedding reception. Do you know how much worry that is? Think of it as you being my son or my nephew who hasn't come back from daycare and I'm sitting in the parking lot waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting…"

What exactly was he going on about? I suppose he was in a better mood from earlier. And, apparently spending this whole time in the closet waiting to ambush me. That explains a lot.

"...and waiting. That's so much time spent doing one thing, and there wasn't even a Holo-vid in here. Not a single magazine. This was the worst waiting experience I'd ever had, so I had to go into my zen mode," Ratchet leans forward. "You know what that is, Clank, huh do you?"

No, something is definitely off.

"I have an idea of what that is," I say, trying to get up. He will not let me. "Ratchet, the extent of your surprise attack is unnecessarily long and arduous."

He looks at me blankly.

"Please, get off me."

"I didn't knock your brain out, did I? Oh, _no_ ," he says horrifically, rising to his feet. "Now you're gonna turn into a zombie! Stay right here while I go look for a shotgun and a salt shaker!"

"I am not a zombie!" I say, curious. "What has gotten you so excited?"

"You mean like a particle affected by an increase in temperature?"

"That is corre..." I blink. "What?"

Has he been reading my novel on Quantum Mechanics? Ratchet shoves the door open, then walks out and collides roughly with the dresser. Several of my books fall off the pile and to my horror, land on the ground. "Oh, dear. My first editions!" I groan.

"Uh…since when was this here?" asks Ratchet, knocking his forehead on the piece of furniture. "I thought I moved it over there next to the sushi bar." He is pointing at the bed.

"That is not what that is," I say slowly, picking my books up and shaking them off.

"You mean to tell me we get on it and wrap ourselves up, and it's not a sushi bar? Okay pal, sure. It can be anything you want since you're right most of the time."

He approaches the nearest wall and rests a hand on it. "You know what I think is weird? How is it that I have five fingers on each hand, but I never see them? Like, like….I don't _see_ them. Right now. This moment in time and in space within a multiverse that's housed in a secular dimension, I can't see my fingers. Weird…I can feel them moving, so it's like that thing, where…stuff is there but it's really not."

"Object permanence?" I point out.

"YES," Ratchet shouts, pounding the wall for emphasis. "EXACTLY. They're there but not at the same time, and is also how _you_ explode yourself into spacial parameters of the living consciousness! You know what, pal? It should stay like that and never, ever, _ever_ , ever, _ever_ , change. FOUR-EVERS, Clank. _Forever_."

I stand speechless. "Ratchet…are you alright?"

"…alright? _Alright?_ " he stalks close and leans over me, suspicious. "You wanna know if I'm alright?" he asks lowly.

"Erm…is that allowed?"

Ratchet brightens, all hostility gone. "Yes. Of course I am, Clank. You…YOU, okay? Just you. You are here now, so that's clearly why! I could've hidden in Talwyn's closest, but I don't think she'd appreciate it like you would. Not now. I don't know when, actually. Look, I just…"

I cringe a bit when he drops a hand on the top of my head. "I…I love you for being you pal," Ratchet says. "Not like…NO. I don't want to marry you, I meant like…bro. You are definitely my brother and I will MURDERLIZE anyone who tries to hurt or kidnap you again…that happened, right?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Lemme go grab us some midnight snacks. Maybe that'll unrustle your jimmies."

"It is not that late…" I say, aghast.

"Fine, then some afternoon snacks. Or early morning. Or…twilight. Evening. It's the evening!" Ratchet deduces, striding to the door. Something tells me it would be unwise to let him leave. I cut him off.

"Wait! I…have a better idea! How about we jump on the bed?"

"Didn't I break a window the last time I did that?"

"No, you must be mistaken," I lie.

"Okay!"

He picks me up and throws me. I bounce onto the bed several times, landing perfectly on my rear. Moments later he lands next to me in the same position, grinning.

"So, what now?" Ratchet asks, pulling on the cover hard enough that it becomes untucked. He wraps himself in it, bizarrely leaving his ears sticking out. "Ha! Hey, wanna tell scary stories? No better yet, let's reenact them. I'll be the boogeyman, and you be Qwark! OOGAH BOOGAH BOOGAH!" he shouts, raising his arms up.

"Ratchet, honestly," I say, unable to hide my smile.

"Come on, this is the part where you scream really loudly. Like this…AHHHH...all _monotone_."

He laughs evilly, and I resist the urge to groan. Such a far cry from our earlier interaction, and I almost do not want to cease it. But this was not normal, contextually. Something must have changed his attitude. I watch as he fumbles around with the covers for a moment, then decide to be straightforward.

"So, Ratchet," I say. "You appear to be in much higher spirits."

"I did."

"Did…what?"

"I went to the top shelf then checked it out," he answers, making a scissoring motion with his hand under the covers. He seems distracted by the movement, until I clap my hands several times. Ratchet glances at me, then leans forward.

"Hey…did you always have this thing around you?" he starts waving his hands around me, like he is trying to catch smoke. "It's so weird…you see it, right?"

"Ratchet, pay attention. What were you talking about just now?"

"How is it like to have that many fingers on each hand? I can attach five more so you'll have the same amount I do. Can you remove your left arm this time?"

"What are you...no!"

"Clank, don't be modest about it."

"Ratchet! I need you to…" I stop, then reorient myself. Clearly I needed to try a different approach, but gracious. I have been prying for answers all day.

"What's up, pal? You okay?"

"I am not," I say truthfully.

"What's disturbed your homeostasis?!" Ratchet demands. "Was it me? I must've sneezed on you or something earlier. Maybe it was by skin contact. Clank, listen to me. Don't worry, I-I think it'll go away…"

"Yes, now if only I had an idea of what 'it' is…" I mutter, mostly to myself.

"You wanna know about 'it'? I'll tell you about it. It…"

He raises his arms, then sweeps them downwards, making a sound like water crashing. " _Wooo!_ Just like that. Except...it was more like a waterfall instead of a wave slamming a beach. It made the..."

He groans and leans back, covering his face with the covers. I hear him speak, but it is too muffled.

"I cannot hear you, Ratchet."

"How is that a surprise when you have no ears?" Ratchet asks, only uncovering his mouth. He sighs out through his nose. "It made the day go away. Like the rainy day that never stops existing. It was just really, really, really, really, really, REALLY…"

"Go on?" I press.

"What was the question?"

Heavens help me. "….oh, right. Really…sad," Ratchet pulls the covers off himself, rubbing at his tightly shut eyes. "I thought I lost it for a second, but I re-found what I needed. I'm glad I did 'cause it helped a lot."

He moves suddenly, taking me by the arm and pulling me close. "Clank…please. Don't leave," he says hushedly. "I mean something to you, right? If I fall in a ditch are you gonna help me get out?"

"Yes. No hole is too deep to stop—"

"Are you sure!?" he yelps, leaning in so close our foreheads almost touch. "You promise…like, really, promise? I can feel it, Clank. The other it. We need to be ready for _it_ or else…or else…I don't know. I can't tell."

He slips away and vanishes back into the closet, starting to audibly move things around. When I meet him at the door he is holding something. It is a plain-looking bottle without a label. " _This_ is one it."

"Give that to me, please," I say suddenly, catching onto something I may not like. Ratchet obediently hands it over, then says, "You're a box."

"I am aware," I say, peering into the mouth of the bottle.

"I'm an organism composed of at least fifty percent of dihydrogen monoxide. You can't even have that because toasters can't drink. They'll short circuit and explode. I don't want that to happen to you."

"Do not worry about that. What was in this bottle?"

"I don't know the scientific nomenclature for it, but it tasted like ginger tea with a drop of pasteurized honey. Why not ask Dr. What's His Face?" Ratchet pinches his nose. "Ennngh, you know…the guy that talks like thissss."

"Dr. Shemp?"

"Yeah, her. Here, lemme call D07 to call WD-1 to call that guy you just mentioned."

I can only watch as he activates his communication device. "D07? Heeeeey, D07! Can you hear me?! Oh, this isn't him? Who are you? E-3? My bad—hey, completely legit question, you know what new Holo-games are coming out next year?"

I sneak away to the side while he is distracted, directly contacting WD-1 myself. He heeds my request to send the Fongoid doctor over our way, appearing disappointed it was not himself. As far as I was concerned, I just needed the one responsible for the current predicament.

I look over to see Ratchet standing on the bed, trying to unscrew the blades off the ceiling fan. The Fongoid doctor comes in later to see me trying to pull him down. "A little help?" I question.

He hurries over and knocks Ratchet on the head with his staff, making him fall, and we both tumble to the ground. "Oh, dear. This will look very bad on my record..." Dr. Shemp says.

"Do you mind explaining what is wrong?" I question.

"I am sorry. This was my fault, hnngh. While we were operating on him earlier, we did not have any local anesthesia. I had a replacement, hnngh, a family recipe that I have been making for many years. It is an herbal tonic…we used that to mellow him out while we worked on that side wound."

"How did it get into his possession?"

"Well, I…gave it to him."

"He sure did gave it to him," Ratchet says. "And he had been happy about it. Wait…we're talking about me?"

"That tonic causes an effect similar to intoxication," I say sternly.

"Y-Yes. He wanted it," Dr. Shemp insists, nervously twisting his staff in hand. "It was only supposed to be taken in light doses to have the effect of other common depressants. I _warned_ him what would happen if he had too much. I even gave him parameters, hnngh! Wombax, how much did you drink?"

"Uhhhhm, I'm not the one holding the empty bottle so why ask me? Makes zero sense. And my dude, that is the _second_ time you called me that. What the heck is a Wombax?" Ratchet fusses. "How do you have a PhD and you're still uneducated?"

" _Oh_ , my Orvus," the Fongoid sighs. I rub a hand to my temple, feeling a twinge in my nuerosystems. The sensation is something that organics would liken to the beginning of a headache.

"What is done is done. Now we wait for this to wear off," I say.

"Yes, quite. I…should probably leave. Again, I am so very sorry for this."

Dr. Shemp looks ashamed as he hastily excuses himself. I sit down, trying to center myself. I have been through enough mental gymnastics lately. Ratchet is keen enough to sense my mood, regarding me with caution.

"Clank, what's wrong?"

"I am very disappointed," I answer, and he shies back, looking uncomfortable. "You know you were not supposed to do what you did."

He disappears from my view. When I bother to look, he is sitting in the corner with his ears folded down. "Why did you not follow his instructions?" I press. He bows his head a bit more, starting to hit it against the wall. The thumps are soft at first but progressively get harder. I stand up, indignant. "Ratchet!"

"I'm _sorry,"_ he snaps, with a final bang of his head. "I just wanted to stop hurting for one second."

Something in my chest skips, and it falls into place in my mind. I...do not know what else to think, except that I now see how careless I was.

Would he have been driven to do what he did, had I remained calm during our argument earlier? Looking back, I now see I did not have to be _that_ aggressive. Especially as I remained ignorant of his feelings, and of what he tried to tell me. Though I did not want him isolate himself and his predicament, I must find a better method of expressing that.

I simply cannot continue this path. I must learn to become even more versatile than I am now. If not, this conflict will continuously divide us and the efforts of the Pekengeri doctor will have succeeded in one of her goals.

My hand clenches. I would not allow that.

A simple thought of resistance, not even a command or a pre-determined fate. If I want to play my part and overcome her influence I need to change my perception; that is, looking at circumstances not with viewpoints that are fully rational in nature, but with ones that feel like a part of a greater, destined plan. For now, only I would have a vague understanding of what exactly that entailed.

I have not been as reflective as I should have been lately because of how hectic things have been. The day was not over yet, but it feels like I have done the work of a dozen men. I am so tired! Heh heh heh heh!

Ratchet lifts his head, looking over his shoulder when he hears me laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, do not mind me. I am feeling quite invigorated, is all," I say lightly. "Besides, was it not you who kept saying everything will be fine?"

"I guess. That doesn't really mean anything," he answers moodily. "I could say that as many times as I want, but—" I smack him in the back of the head. "Ow?"

"Silence. You were right earlier. I am unable to fully empathize your situation," I say. "But I need to at least try for what I can understand. If I did it for those Pekengeri, I will surely do so for you."

"I…you..."

"—will be fine. Has the situation made you forget who I am?" I demand. "I do not mean to boast, but I am not a faintheart and I will not let you become one either. It is time for us to act, albeit in our separate ways."

"You want us to separate!?" Ratchet cries, tackling me to the ground. Goodness, I cannot wait until he slips out of his mind trip. I can only take so much outward affection at once. I push him off me.

"It is just for a minute while I prepare. You must stay with someone. What about Talwyn?"

His pupils shrink in a bit. "Who…oh. Sure, pal, that sounds great! I have some choice words for her, actually."

Thirty minutes after contacting Talwyn, who'd been in a walk through her terrariums, she arrives. She is speechless, partially from my explanation of the situation and Ratchet's behavior. "Oh, Talwyn. How sweet it _is_ , to be loved by you," Ratchet serenades, flashing his brows at her. "It's like sugar, baby."

Talwyn's expression is stiff and unreadable. "...Clank."

"Yes?"

"How long is this going to last?"

"I do not know. But I need to be rid of any distractions in the meantime. Do think you can watch him?"

She silently sits down on the bed. Ratchet slides himself into her lap, looking up at her.

"Ooooh, Taalwyn. Do you know what's better than a girl with spunk, class, or something else that's a representation of a modern woman?"

"What?"

He grins. "Heh…you."

Talwyn's rigid features crack ever so slightly. "Well…that's a new one from you," she says, mirth dipping its presence in her voice.

"One final thing," I say. "Would you be at all bothered if I summoned a...helper, here?"

"Go ahead and do what you need to do, Clank," Talwyn says without question. Her conformation is followed by my exit, and I stride down the hallway before I take my new favorite gadget and remove myself from the spot. There are several points in time and space I go. Making short trips with teleportation had a lot less risks than trying to go for one long jump.

I finally reappear into the communications room, approaching the monitor and accessing the archive of numbers in the database. It all started as a joke on my part, but this may be a step forward. I smile to myself when I find exactly who I am looking for, then glance over.

A lone Zoni is hovering nearby, hand up to a fictitious mouth. It flickers like an afterimage as it glides closer, cocking an eye. " _Sire. We will have news for you_."

"You said 'will', which implies a later point in time. That moment will be dealt with when it arrives."

Until then, I have work to do.


	9. Gone Wild

Oh, my aching…everything. Leave it to me to keep discovering places hurting that shouldn't be, like my eyestalks. They're the only things bothering me besides my head.

I can't remember what I'd been doing or why, but I have an ugly feeling it wasn't anything good. I sit up stiffly, covers rolling off my shoulders. As I wake up more I remember speaking to Clank recently and small shreds of our conversation come back, but it's hardly enough to form a bearing on a specific topic.

I dazedly lower my head in my hands, starting to middle around in my thoughts. What was it again? Why were we talking in the first place?

After coming back from Igliak, I was all too angry and ninety nine percent of it was directed towards myself. I had felt like I couldn't forgive myself. Too upset. I couldn't think straight. I think I roamed around for a while, maybe hid somewhere by myself to sulk. Or both, with everything in between.

Now Alister's face randomly pops into my head. I curse my subconscious, forcing it away. Not at a time like this. I decide to lay back down again and rest for a little longer. As I rearrange the covers I notice for the first time, Talwyn is in the bed with me.

If I wasn't confused enough, the sight of her pushes my befuddlement to absolute shock. Did we do something and I couldn't even remember that?

As disappointing as that would have been, I don't think that's the case since my barn door is still closed. In addition, by the way our last talk ended it wouldn't warrant anything like this in the bedroom. Not this soon.

I automatically shift gears, getting out of bed slowly. I don't think it's a great idea to be around her just yet, in case she woke up and was still upset. I wasn't in the mood to risk instigating another argument. Time for me to vacate the premises for safer ground.

"You're leaving?"

I freeze in place. She had just reminded me that she had eyes on the back of her head. "I was just…going to go out," I say.

"Back to work?"

"Not sure, but likely."

Her side rises then falls sharply in a sigh. "Did you want me to stay?" I ask, feeling that all my options right now would result in her twisting my tail into a knot. To cap off the ambiguity she doesn't answer.

Great. Well, looks like I should go with my better judgement on this one. I slide back into bed, lying down and trying to ignore the tension worming between us. Our backs are less than half a foot from each other's.

Our silence is heavily elapsed. I know there are words that need to be spoken, and now feels like a trying time to let them go without this turning out to be another altercation. That was how I felt at least, but I don't know if she was waiting on me, or if…if…

Ugh, I don't know. My head still hurts and I don't want to think about a woman's enigmatic thought process yet.

I need to slow down for a moment; am I losing focus of my principles? Had to think about that. Maybe she didn't want talk, at least yet, and just wanted to be in my company. I find myself being comfortable on that wavelength.

I feel something snaking around down south. Her tail is slipping through the covers as if it were searching for something. I hook my own around it and twist it, until they're both tightly intertwined with each other. I can't remember when we first started doing this but I've always jokingly referred to it as 'tailing'.

Talwyn sinks down into the covers a bit more. She mutters something so weird I have to rub at my ears to make sure I'd heard correctly.

"Huh? Say that again?"

"Ha...I said, you're not half bad of a singer."

I've shattered a few windows here and there, but that was usually from people throwing objects at me and telling me the exact opposite. "Wait, when did I…sing to you?" I ask, confused.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Not really..." I say slowly, "I mean, I was talking to Clank, right? I think he was upset with me, but now I kinda remember you appearing at some point. What did I do, Talwyn?"

"You had that bottle of anesthesia in your possession, Ratchet. What do you think you did?"

Screw me with a rusty knife.

"Oh. Ah." I say shamefully. "Don't know how that slipped my mind."

"Clank told me it was because you both had an argument while you were out," Talwyn says softly. I become a bit guarded, almost expecting her to ask me why.

"Yeah…" I say, trying to keep the subject out the air, "and I honestly don't know why I turned to something like that. I dunno...wasn't really thinking. I just…I guess even if it was for a little while, I wouldn't have to dwell too long about anything I didn't want to."

Her brooding turns my tension into slight nervousness, which doesn't help the closed setting at all. From the deepest, rawest pit of my mind the instinct to flee emerges.

"Ratchet…you do know I love you, right? Like, more than you probably even think. And lately, I can't stop worrying about you. I know I've been poking and prodding at you for every little thing, because I was so _frustrated_. I realized...that makes you feel the same way," Talwyn says. "About recently...I didn't mean to go off on you like that. I still recognize our issues come from the both of us not being as open as we should be with each other, and I want to change that. While I was thinking to myself yesterday, I connected the dots on several things."

"Would one of them be that I've been lying to save face on how I really feel?" I mutter.

"Just because no one's called you out on that doesn't make it any less obvious. Part of the problem comes from you not taking care of yourself, at the expense of others. I couldn't really hone in on what my exact gripe was, but _that_ clicked. And it's the truth. Even from that, I realized that there are some times where you really couldn't help being caught up in a mess."

"Fantastic, Talwyn. It's a far cry from the way you made it sound yesterday, like I was being reckless just for the sake of doing so."

"And I stand corrected on the fact that there are things you can't control, like Eyesac. I sincerely apologize about being so unfair to you about that. But can you not disagree with me when I say that you're not exactly the pinnacle of health right now because of how you've been overworking yourself? Better yet, just look at the way you've tried to cope with it all."

"I don't blame you if you're upset about that. I mean…not one of my best moments."

"I only wish you had a better way of handling things, or not be pushed to that point anyway," Talwyn says. It sounds like she's close to tears. "We have to do better than this...what happened to us? I can't tell which one of us is sorrier."

"The properties differ, but I'd say we're roughly at the same level."

"Ratchet, do _not_ start with the joking," Talwyn says, her voice blossoming in anger. "You have been undermining your own physical and mental health, and it's not looking good for you. I don't care how _much_ you can push yourself to do there is a _limit_ on the amount of stress your body and mind can take. I can't count on a single hand how many days you've slept the way you're supposed to. You still sneak out of bed sometimes to check security, don't you? You've done that on casual visits before so I know you've taken it to the extreme now. But wait, what's different here? You have people that can do that _for_ you.

"While you're spending time doing things that D07 or the other Rangers, or even _Qwark_ could be handling just fine, you're forgetting to sleep, you're forgetting to eat and I KNOW Clank has said something about this before I have. You're just being _stubborn_. THAT'S what worries me the most."

Talwyn sighs in frustration. "I just don't know what to do with you at times, Ratchet. Stop being bullheaded for once and listen when we try to help you. It's for a reason."

I'm stunned with nothing to say in my defense because she's absolutely right. It had been an itch, almost an obsession, for me to make sure that everything was fine. I absolutely could not afford to cut any corners and relied mostly on paranoia and fear to keep pushing my limits.

My fears would never change but the voices that tell me to constantly have them at the forefront of my mind, to let them control me, had to. Never again would I want to say I should have done something different, that maybe if I had done this or that, there wouldn't be as much heartbreak. In a reality where many things that occur stay permanently set in stone, I dread making a misstep that could cost me everything. I could only wish for the responsibility and power to rewind time at will.

"I'm sorry," is all I say, and I mean it. Talwyn continues to stew to herself. It puts into perspective how much I needed to change the current way I was behaving. If not things would never get better between us.

"And I still don't know what it is you're keeping from me. You told me awhile back that we were going to talk. Remember that?" Talwyn says quietly.

"Yes. I…" I let out a breath, then continue. "Alright. I have something to admit. During the summer on Veldin, I was working hard, similar to now, to distract myself."

"From what?"

"From…Cronk and Zephyr," I say, feeling my tongue curl. Their names hadn't left my mouth in months and it feels strange. "What happened with them…and why I've been like this Talwyn, they're both tightly connected. Two sides of the same coin. There's nothing that scares me more than something like that happening again. That's why I can't bring myself to relax…or for too long, at that. I'm sorry, Talwyn, I'm…"

She suddenly withdraws her tail from mine and turns over. I face her. True devastation, which comes from realizing the worst possible thing, covers every inch of her visage. "I was right there. I was _right there_ , and I couldn't do anything," I say quietly, my voice catching. "Do you get me, Talwyn? I couldn't. Do. _Anything_. Feeling powerless like that and knowing someone needs help kills me."

"Oh Ratchet, I just…...I didn't realize," she says quietly, her tears leaking over. I move in closer until our bodies touch, lacing my arms underneath hers. She starts to cry, trembling, and her sobs are practically my own. We just hold each other tightly for a long time.

"I'm sorry," I find myself repeating. "Failure is so much harder to bear when it costs something that's irreplaceable. I tried to push it to the back of my mind because I was afraid of facing my shortcomings. They were there the whole time. I don't know who I was fooling…"

She squeezes me slightly. "You don't blame yourself for what happened, do you? That's not fair to yourself. It's not your fault what happened to them. It really isn't. If you feel that way, please try to forgive yourself."

My mouth refuses to move. I stare right through her. I envision that soul-crippling moment where I saw their faces, their hopelessness, and realized I could have done nothing. Too vivid. It's almost like I can reach out and grab them, bring them back to safety…

 _"Ratchet, do you hear me?"_

Talwyn sounds like she's calling down a tunnel. I look up at her blankly. She's still talking, though I can't seem to hear her words clearly. There's this weird clogging feeling settling over my ears. Numbness starts to seize me, making my insides feel hollow. The sensations that had kept me up for many nights in a row. I was still being haunted by the memory.

Even when I shouldn't be taking the blame the opposite mindset had anchored itself in my mind, silently convincing me that it was true over time. They were little whispers at first. Then they got louder. Shouts. Bellows. I'm not sure how to stop that.

"…can't," I mutter.

"Yes, you can! This isn't even a case where a real mistake was made! How where you supposed to know what was going to happen?" Talwyn says furiously. "It was just a worst-case scenario no one saw coming. The only way I'll allow you to take the blame is if you're a psychic and you knew what was going to happen. Are you? Huh? No, you aren't. You _can't_ keep hurting yourself like this, Ratchet."

"It's not like I can instantly get over this, Talwyn. This _stupid_...mental…" I close my eyes, grinding my teeth hard into each other until my jaws hurt. "Imagine if I could just take that seed of doubt out my head, that'd be nice, wouldn't it? I'd have to pull up proverbial miles of its roots."

"I'm not saying find a quick fix. I'm saying to try to start. I know it's not going to be easy for you. It's difficult thinking about it myself, and I wasn't even there. Logic has to be one of the things you use to fight things like this. It wasn't your fault."

I bury my face into the covers. Talwyn holds me close and rests her chin on top of my head, her hands stroking at the back of it and kneading underneath my ears. "It's not your fault…" she says quietly, continuously muttering the same phrase, over and over. I stay limp, trying to focus on her words. It wasn't my fault…it wasn't…

Talwyn presses her lips to the top of my head, kissing it. "Mhm. It wasn't…do you hear me?"

Her voice tickles at my ears, almost sounding like my inner subconscious. Several times I doze off briefly, still hearing her speak quietly to me. It was all about breaking the barrier of delusion. My own mind had tricked me, and for the longest. I have a rotten feeling this won't be the last time it tries this.

I inhale slightly, opening my eyes. Something still feels like it's missing. "Talwyn."

"Yes, what is it?"

"I spent too long, trying not to think about them. Now it's almost like…they're different from what I remember. Or if they never existed at all. It's hard to explain."

"Then let's take a quick trip down memory lane. Remember how you first met them?"

In an instant the memory shows its face, like it'd been waiting to be acknowledged. A low chuckle leaves me after a moment. "Yeah…at the time, I thought they were the most senile things in the universe. Well…they were, but there's no lack of respect…"

"I understand the feeling," Talwyn says, laughing slightly. "What about that time you were over for our first anniversary and Cronk kept trying to film what we were doing for the whole day?"

"Oh...oh yeah and Zephyr had that boom mic, trying to eavesdrop on our conversations. Heh heh. Anything but subtle."

"I don't think they were happy about us vanishing from their radar at the end of the day. That was probably a little of my father's paternal instinct he left with them."

"To be fair, I wouldn't really blame them," I say. It was a good thing they had lost track of us since that was the night we discovered we were both extremely versatile. "By the way, take that moment and fast forward a year and several days after that. That was on your birthday…"

"Geez, when Cronk tried baking a cake for the first time to save money? That was a disaster," Talwyn says, grinning. "It took us forever to clean the kitchen up after that."

"The cake still wasn't half bad."

"It was on the ceiling, you actually _ate_ some?"

"Yeah, the taste of plaster didn't really bother me but it could've used a bit more icing. How'd that thing even get stuck up there in the first place?"

"That'll be a mystery to the end of time."

They're tender things, memories. Sometimes they sting at the same time they make you feel the greatest joy ever. With time and honest consideration, the sharp, painful edges of certain ones can be dulled until you're fully content with them. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I know I still have a problem with facing the tougher remembrances. They were ones that weren't connected to Cronk and Zephyr at all.

Yet now with those two it's subtly become easier to remember them as tangible people again even if they were gone. Looking back on their time in my life, even if it was with a melancholic attitude, is the least I can do to fully honor them. The pin stuck in my heart feels like it's being gradually pulled out, enough to not be as noticeable. While there's so many emotions running through me right now, I slip into true comfort.

A strange moment, made tranquil with someone I love. I nose closely at Talwyn's neck, drawing her scent in a bit more. "Hey, it's wet," she says lightly.

"Thanks, Talwyn," I mutter. "You really helped me out a lot."

"Any time. Just tell me when you're bothered like this. I know you don't like talking about how you feel, but you can't hold things in like this."

 _Now. Do it._

Not that this was anything new, but I suddenly find my mouth moving independently from my thoughts. "Talwyn, there's…" I begin, before the room door opens. We both look up finding Qwark frozen, wide-eyed, at the door. He spins on his heel, leaving.

"…I'll just come back later."

"What do you need, Qwark?" I call.

"Clank wanted me to come wake you up, but he didn't mention that all this touchy-feely stuff would be going on. Don't mind _me_."

"It has been awhile since we've been in here. It's probably time for us to get up," Talwyn says. "Where you saying something?"

"There is something else I need to tell you now," I say, sitting up. "This happened before we came here, like, right before. I, uh…had a bomb…blow up in my face."

She looks at me neutrally, blinking once. "…I'm assuming this is what you didn't want to tell me at first?"

"Uh, huh."

"Alright," she says evenly, though I can tell she's restraining her irritation. "How'd it happen?"

"It wasn't by my cause for once…I mean, it was a random occurrence," I say quickly. "I don't even know what it was. It crashed on Kyzil Plateau and when we went to investigate, it got angry and blew up."

"You went to see what an unknown extraterrestrial object from space was?"

"We wouldn't have Clank if I hadn't done that before!" I point out. "I fell into the crater it made when it exploded, but when I woke up that's where it went from being a casual occurrence to the worst living nightmare. See, the main thing here is that I'd forgotten how to do certain things. Like, work with tools. Fly a ship…use weapons…" I say, my voice trailing off. Her eyes light up, and her mouth drops in disbelief. She rubs at her temples. "Oh, my goodness. You mean, what happened to Aphelion?"

"Yeah."

"You mean, why you weren't fully prepared when you went after Eyesac?"

"Yeah."

Talwyn shuts her eyes. "But hey, I'm fine now!" I say quickly, unconvincingly. "I mean, I'm not completely perfect, but…at least I can do all those things now again, right? It just took a little hard work, heh heh…..uh, Talwyn? Oh, boy…"

"Are you _insane_ ," she says finally. "How hard did you bump your head to think that was a good thing to keep from me?"

"At the time it seemed—"

"Fine? _Fine?!_ Of course it did! Yeah! I already know what you're going to say! This had better be some type of joke because I can't believe it! Are you _seriously_ telling me that you had something blow up in your face, hit your head, lost some of the most _important aspects of your being_ , then assumed that was something that you couldn't tell me?"

"If I had, it'd take away man points," I say, cracking a grin.

Priceless. Talwyn almost seems to crash, her eyes wide with disbelief for a couple seconds before she shoves me off to the ground. She gives a furious grunt then I find the entire bed tipping over, pinning me to the ground. "If you wanted some more bed action all you had to do was tell me, Tal!" I shout.

"Jerks! You _and_ Clank!" she screams. I crawl from underneath the bed, catching a glimpse of her backside as she leaves. Huh. Somehow, I felt like this was the best possible outcome.

Guess I'd better go see what Clank wanted now! Qwark must've forgotten there's only a thousand and one places he could be since he didn't tell me where he was.

Then Clank just appears, popping out of thin air and landing on the bed. Or, where it was supposed to be. His little remote falls from his hand as he hits the ground on his back, legs sticking up. "Ugh!"

I snicker, leaning over him. "Yeah, uh, sorry about that, pal. Talwyn got a little angry. I think it's best if we steer clear from her while she cools down."

"Hm? What happened?"

"I told her."

"Really," he says, amused. "I figured she would not take it well, but you seem oddly optimistic about it."

"Ah, all I gotta do is give her some time. Figured it was better to tell her then, when we'd already talked some other things through. So, uh…you wanted me for something?"

"Yes. But first, let _us_ talk. As interesting as it was seeing an adult Lombax act like he was a preschooler again, we discussed something important yesterday. From the approach I took to you while we were on Planet Igliak I realized I was far too pressing on the matter. And so I reiterate...I will make the effort to go at your pace and help you handle this issue. I need to at least try, Ratchet. You cannot expect me to ignore this."

"I don't want to be a burden," I force out.

"You are not, and never will be because you are my friend. Imagine how hard this must be for me!" Clank says, putting his hands on his hips. "What if you were in my position?"

"Well. Then I'd…be understandably concerned." I say. The both of us simultaneously glance off for a moment, then at the same time we try to speak and only end up mixing our words together. I chuckle a bit. "Uh, you first, pal."

"I am sorry for being so aggressive yesterday. I have accepted how stubborn I was, and will try hold more understanding."

"I'm sorry too. I don't ever wanna hurt you like that again. You've gotta promise me if something like that happens anymore…run away. Don't stick around."

He has one hand up to his chin and the other folded behind his back. He smiles, offering me a handshake. I take his hand, then yank him up in the air and quickly look behind him. He's got his fingers crossed. "Whoopsie," he says, grin never fading.

"I outta use your head as a nutcracker," I hiss. "…tch. You've been getting mighty deceitful lately."

"If it is for you, I will. I hope you are not bothered by what else I have in mind. I have called in a doctor to assist us. A…psychologist, if you will."

A funny twitch runs through my gut at the way he says 'psycologist', and I get a bit nervous. "Okay then, pal," I say, setting him to the floor. "They're here?"

"Yes, waiting right this instant. Allow me to take us to them."

He teleports us. I still have the remnants of a weird hangover and warping feels even more screwy. I can hardly tell which way's up, almost staggering into somebody when we reappear somewhere in a conference room.

"Oh my stars! Here is the specimen, in all glory! Come to me, you amazing creature!"

No way. No _way_. I spin, coming face to face with Dr. Croid. He's already leaning in, eyes shining. "Are you hungry? I brought some treats!" he says excitedly, holding a bag up. Getting flashbacks here...

"Doctor…?" Clank questions, sounding expectant.

Croid catches himself remarkably fast. "Oh! Uh, right, right. I am beside myself. Ahem." With some visible difficulty he backs up. He's still in my personal space but it's a start. "Let's try this again. Hello, Ratchet, how are you? I'm sure you haven't forgotten me!"

I speak slowly, hoping he wouldn't start trying to translate my 'language'. "I couldn't ever imagine forgetting about you, doc."

"I am quite honored to be summoned to work with you again. I have heard about your plight, and do not fret! I may not have gotten my doctorate in psychology, but there's enough knowledge in this head of mine to provide some sort of answer."

For a guy that considers himself a Lombax Whisperer I feel like I shouldn't put stock into whatever he was about to go on about. Then I remember that Clank went through the effort of calling someone...trustworthy, to discuss this. It was better than nothing.

"Alright then doc…what do you want me to do first? Stand on my head and recite my kind's alphabet backwards?"

"As fantastic as that sounds, I am not being credited for that," he says, disappointed. "On the first impression I can tell that you have neglected yourself a bit. Your coat looks rather dull. How is your diet?"

"Well," I sigh thoughtfully, putting my hands in my pockets. "I've been mostly drinking coffee and some water. Oh, I remember eating an entire pizza not too long ago. That was really great, you know with the extra pepperoni on it?"

"I thought I saw a little bit of extra weight on you."

"Hey, It's only two more pounds! Right? It was the last time I checked..."

"That must have been a while ago. I ask because an ample increase in cortisol will cause your eating habits to shift. How about sweet foods, for that matter?"

I think of Ms. Templemuffin's chocolate chip cookie dough cupcakes and find myself drooling. Only a bit, I swear. "To fair, I now know a really good baker."

"How about your sleeping patterns?"

"Uhhh," I say, feeling Clank's eyes boring into the back of my head. "...yes?"

"It's not that type of question my boy, I sense when one wants to dodge the topic. We'll mark that off as 'uncertain but likely not acceptable' right now."

The guy has gotten more self-aware for sure.

"I already have a blatant point of entry to start this investigation, but basic questions matter too. It's quite important to be aware of the building blocks to any pertaining issue," Croid says. "I have received all word from Clank—no personal observation on my end mind you, which is a bit of a shame, and I believe it is your most recent incident that has caused your concern to rise?"

"Concern is a bit underwhelming of a word," I say. He starts to circle around, looking me up and down. "Hm…comparatively, the outside factors are fairly constant. What's truly amiss lies even deeper and _that_ is where the root of all your issues lie. Since something is off up here," he taps my head, "your state of mind is experiencing a confusing spiral of alteration. The brain, while highly complex, is quite fragile. Amongst us organics gifted with higher thought, civility I should say, certain augmentations of our brains allow us to stand separate from lower beings.

"The mind is merely a conscious extension. Using your case as an example, when a traumatizing force acts upon the physical carrier of your mind, it has trouble recuperating. Perhaps it cannot reach its previous potential and deductively returns to far simpler processes. We have basic aspects that serve as the foundation for our overall survival, but they are usually unnoticeable because they have become second nature to us. With you, Ratchet, it seems these characteristics are being brought to the surface _and_ amplified."

"So when that bomb exploded in my face, it caused my mind to…regress?"

"Regress…in a generalized sense, yes," Dr. Croid says slowly. "It appears that it was not that extreme, as we are having an intelligent conversation right now. But…it was enough to alter how you feel and think, correct?"

I hesitate. "Yes. It was."

"And yet with case where you briefly forgot some of your long-time skills you simply had to relearn them, did you not? Tell me about that."

"Sometimes it felt like it was harder to learn, and remember. It varied. On my worst days if I lost focus, that would be about several minutes worth of information gone," I say, silently thanking Clank for his patience during that time. "It became a lot easier, gradually, the more I actually began to relate to what I was doing again."

Dr. Croid looks off to the side, staring thoughtfully at the wall. "Hm. So relearning ended up not being as stilted, the same with retention. That tells me, with some other unwanted factors remaining…you _are_ still functional as an individual. The difference now is that you have instinctual cues that have swelled, and those may continue to interfere in ways they had not before."

I'm starting to feel uncomfortable because he was making sense while saying things I didn't like to hear. For the first time I notice he's holding a device in his hand, eyeing it as he twists a dial on it. "What is that?"

"It's a recording device. I'm documenting this conversation for later reference."

"Were you planning on making this public?" I ask suddenly, out of nowhere.

His expression softens. "Your paranoia is understood, but unneeded. May I continue?" I grunt, nodding. "Very well. Let me ask you this; can you say you have felt a bit out of touch lately with what you have considered a normal part of your life?"

"Yes…in some ways."

Croid glances from his device to me. "What do you mean in some ways?"

"It's because of those very instinctual cues you suggested. My senses and some impulses feel deeper."

"Deeper senses, you say?"

"Yeah…" I say, almost embarrassed to admit it. "Uh…well…my sense of smell has gotten stronger. Without that, I don't think we would've had luck on some of our recent tasks. And...hearing's more sensitive. There's some other like…sixth sense, I think, that's gotten stronger. I don't really know how to explain that..." I hesitate for a moment, thinking. "Wait, no. I take that back. I'm sure it's become easier to tell how others are feeling. If they're lying, for example."

"Ahh, you describe an increase in empathy. Simply feeling the energy of your surroundings and people?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Astounding," he mutters. "It appears to be true. Your instinctual, er…animal side, if you don't mind me saying, is emerging. And rather aggressively, at that. The way you assaulted that Pekengeri, along the fact that you failed to remember what had happened, is what capitalizes all of this. Your higher sense of mind was temporarily overrode and your body acted on raw, savage instinct. It was at that time, your animalistic instincts had erupted exponentially."

My walls fall completely at the words and I pull away, staring at him fearfully. It was so much worse having someone else say it to me. All of this…from a freak accident?

"Ratchet, there is something very wrong with you," Croid continues thoughtfully, "I have never seen it in my years. Your case was mere guesswork that unfortunately, became a reality. You see the truth of the issue, yes, but the fix…the fix. Hmm…I simply cannot say."

Clank speaks suddenly, "You do not have a clear solution?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"No. You _can't_ tell me all of that and not have a solution. You're a doctor!" I say, finding myself shouting. "You're supposed to know what's wrong and help me fix it!"

"Ratchet, please," Croid says. I back away, realizing I'd gotten in his space without noticing. He doesn't look particularly ruffled but still has a somber look in his eyes, brows lowered.

"I'm afraid the answer isn't foreseeable. And need I be fully honest, so you do not feel cheated, I have no way of knowing where you'll go from this. This is a struggle between two sides of your mind, and it will not be an easy fight to endure. I couldn't say how you could cope with the changes and the effects they bring."

I say nothing in response, staring at the ground. I don't know what to think now.

"I am sorry that this is not what you wanted," Dr. Croid says quietly. "Do not forget that you are still yourself, even if it does not seem so. You must continue to live on and never forget your individual characteristics and quirks that separates you from I, or you from Clank. If you focus too much on the change that comes, it may threaten to destroy what sense of self you have."

He leans in, lowering his voice to a serious tone. "That is when you will truly have nothing left."

"G…Got it," I say quietly, swallowing hard. He turns his attention to Clank. "This is somewhat difficult for you as well, Clank. You must consider how powerful the instincts of an organic mind are. But I sense that there may be highly approximate, delicate moments where even they need to be tempered by rationality and logic. You must develop the intuition for when those precise times are, and act accordingly."

Clank gives a slight nod, his hand to his chin. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"And Ratchet, during a period such as this, the last thing you should do is distance yourself from those who seek to lend you their help. Solitude is something that will not do you any favors. Trust me. I would know."

A recollection surfaces, and the inside of my mouth goes dry. In the past Talwyn had told me something similar to that. Solitude...and guilt. Two things that compliment each other for a terrible blow on the psyche. I couldn't tread down that path. Not like...

"This may not be my place, but common understanding must be reached if you want support you need," Croid says, thankfully drawing my attention away from my thoughts. "I do have a suggestion. Once your political affairs here are completed, I suggest returning back to your normal lifestyle. In general, that may help ease your mind."

Clank holds up a finger. "Does getting ready for a hovership competition count as easing the mind?"

I manage to give him a slight smile. Dr. Croid shrugs. "To each their own. Lastly, I have noticed that stress seemed to trigger that episode of yours, Ratchet. If you feel yourself reaching that point, I suggest removing yourself from the situation."

"…uh, right. What was bothering me the most was the squealing he was doing. It actually hurt. I think that was what really made me upset."

"Ooh, now this is important," he says, interested. "If your hearing has gotten sharper you're more susceptible to misophonia, or the dislike of certain sounds. From what I understand that can indeed make one's temper go from zero to a hundred."

"That's gonna be fun to avoid," I say dully. Looks like I'd have to leave the house whenever Clank makes tea.

"Do what you can. After all, you know the warning signs," He looks his recording device for a moment, puzzled. "...Yes! I finally got it to work. Technology and I don't get along sometimes," he turns it off and tucks it under his arm, looking between us both. "I'm no expert in the field, but it was better than being in the dark don't you say?"

Clank nods. "Yes, it is. Your input was quite helpful."

"Yeah, thanks. Uh…sorry for being paranoid earlier," I say. "I just don't want this to be a known thing."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me disclosing this information to anyone. I'll even keep this a secret from Nevo and Mr. Dinkles if you want me to."

"That'd be…great?"

"As you wish. Now, farewell. I must be off to my lab to study this further and see if I can come to more conclusions. If I make any breakthroughs, I will contact you." He stops, scratching his head when he reaches the door.

"Do you need an escort back to the hangar?" Clank asks.

"No, no…this place rivals Ephemeris in size. I'll be able to find my way back. Eventually…" he mutters, leaving. I exhale, rubbing at my face. "…so…how about that?"

"That's some serious sci-fi stuff right there," Qwark says. I almost jump out my skin, looking over to find him casually sitting at the table. "Qwark, when did you...?!"

He holds his hands up. "I've been coming back to this exact spot for some time. It's like a 'thinking' zone to me. It just so happens that you guys set your meeting at the same time I come in here and do my daily routine of peacefully considering all of my accomplishments, in blissful silence," he lets out an easy sigh. "Apparently, my arrival went unnoticed so I sat here like a bump on a log to wait till you guys finished."

"So you heard?" I exclaim.

"Yep."

"Everything?!"

"At first I thought it was a no-sell. That guy isn't exactly…ehhh," he squints, making a strained face. "Reliable. But since I heard the low down from Clank, I figured he's probably on the mark this time. Least he didn't try to translate anything you were saying, right?"

"I did happen to tell Qwark recently, Ratchet," Clank says. "To my surprise, he used intellectual deduction and caught wind that something was off. He would not stop pestering me until I gave him details."

"Yeah, heh heh…" Qwark chuckles, then looks offended. "To your _surprise?"_

"Guess that makes the four of us, then," I say. "Qwark, you can't tell anyone outside of us, okay? No news stations, no other doctors, no nobodies!"

"Skrunch already knows."

" _Ugh,_ you big...he doesn't count!"

I almost fall through the floor when I realize I was concerned about how Qwark of all people felt about me. He was complicated at times but I do have a weird sense trust in him. "I don't even know why I fell for that, since we're the only ones that can understand him. You know what I mean. Besides Skrunch, and Dr. Croid, and anyone else who's gotten an idea of what's wrong with me no telling, okay? In fact, just forget we had this conversation."

"If I forget, how would I remember what I'm not supposed to tell?"

I raise my hands, clenching them. "That's it, strangling time," I shout, right before Clank clears his throat. "If I may? Qwark, I do believe with two of the Pekengeri being locked up and the others reported as missing, it will be soon before you are allowed to leave. I suggest packing several days ahead."

"Sure, I'll do that," he says, rising from his seat. "This place has become like a thirty-seventh home to me, except I didn't have to pay rent. I'll kinda miss it."

He strolls out. I just shake my head. "It's too easy, sometimes."

For a split second, an onimous look crosses Clank's face. "Well, if you know the person you know how to outmaneuver them at times. Some are simpler than others."

"And now I…don't know what to do with myself now after hearing that news. I have no idea how to handle two parts of my mind clashing. If there was a way to negate the bad and keep the good, I wouldn't know until I stumble across it somehow."

"I have faith we will make worthy discoveries of our own, Ratchet." Clank says smoothly. "Now why don't you go lie down for a while? You still seem to be tired."

Rest. I had no arguments against that. He on the other hand seems to be in a rush to scurry off to do who knows what. I walk back to our suite with Croid's words in my head, starting to associate them and my own experiences more. I look down at my hands, as if they held the secret to my continued existence.

I was basically turning wild. It's a bizarre concept that, even as it's happening clearly, can't seem to stick in my mind as being real. Maybe it was too outlandish to be accepted yet.

My feet take me past our suite and I go with the flow. The longer I walk, the more I start to feel cold and closed in. These walls have been around me for far too long. I try to imagine walking through the deserts and crags of Veldin, wishing that I could be back. Lying out in the sun, scaling steep inclines, throwing rocks at Horny Toads…

A longing sigh leaves my chest as I walk into an empty room. I drop onto the couch with a loud, excessive grunt. That felt better. I lean back, closing my eyes, and is fast asleep within seconds. It's almost comical.

Unlike most recent dreams, the one I fall into is actually relaxing. I feel like I'm drifting along in zero gravity in a sea of little white lights surrounded by a grayish backdrop. Familiarity seems to encompass everything. Maybe I've dreamed of this place before. I see something suddenly appear in the distance, fascinated by the round speck that glows like a bluish coal.

 _Ratchet…_

Someone's shaking me. Their touch feels light, like a phantom's. Was that them speaking, or was the voice from my dream? I don't want to wake up yet. Just a little bit longer.

 _"Hey..."_

"Leave me alone," I mutter, half conscious. The shaking comes again, a bit more frantic. "General…go away, gramps. Not now…"

Pressure comes down on my throat, interrupting my airflow, and I get startled awake. It's still dark. The lights must have gone off while I slept. I slowly tilt my head back. A paled eye is hovering above. "How about staying bright-eyed and bushy tailed for me, machismo?"

"Have you ever heard of personal space?" I respond steadily, glaring at him.

Eyesac laughs. "I wouldn't point fingers," he starts to pull upwards and I follow, fully awake and tensed. The lights come on and by the time they do he's vanished. I quickly bolt off the couch then gag, feeling a yank at my throat. He still had his grip around my neck.

"Ah-ah-ah! Wait a minute now, hold the gravy train!"

I spit a curse at him, trying to pull his tentacle away. He starts to readjust himself, finding that it's getting difficult to hang on. "You're making this harder for yourself," Eyesac warns. I claw at my neck with both hands. The one he'd injured recently hadn't healed fully yet, but I ignore the pain. His grip is too tight and my head starts to pound. I growl as my fury ignites, baring my teeth and increasing my struggles twofold. This guy was such a jackass.

"Honestly, just…relax!" Eyesac snaps.

His tentacle slips around my left wrist, wrestling it away, and my other hand gets the same treatment. In a flash of movement I kick out, my boot striking his chin. His head snaps back and he snorts in pain as his invisibility falls. I step back then roughly swing my body around, my anger giving me more than enough strength to pull him around in a wide arc. His tentacles slip from my wrists and he goes flying, face planting into the ground.

He twists his head around as he raises it, then quickly dodges as I hurtle a punch at his face. "For the love of my mother, will you just calm down and listen to me? I'm not here to kill you!"

"The chokehold said otherwise."

He avoids me, retreating; I chase him but he beats me to the door, blocking it off. "You are _asking_ for it," I say madly, as my hair stands on end. This was going to do me some good to blow off steam. I'm almost shaking in anticipation as I lower my stance, pounding at my chest twice before raising my fists. "Come on. You and me, round two."

"Eeee…!" Eyesac inches back. "Hold on, hold on! None of that violence, alright?"

"Put 'em up!"

"You wouldn't hurt a friend, would you?"

That was so ridiculous it causes my brain to stall for a second, and I lower my guard. I'm starting to realize this guy has that effect on people. Though instead of taking advantage of this, Eyesac nods. "Yeh, yeh! Sometimes, even the bestest of pals have arguments, right?"

"You—we—shut up," I snarl, growing incensed again. "I don't know what backwards reality you're in, but we are not friends. We're not even close to being acquaintances."

He draws something from behind his back and tosses it down. It's a…Combustor? I snatch the weapon up quickly. Thumb on trigger. Point at target. Ready to apply pressure.

I grin to myself. _Got it._

Eyesac moves slowly. I watch carefully as he lies down on the ground, raising his gangly limbs in the air. I don't trust him. I'm positive it's another one of his tricks. My trigger finger twitches, prepared to get back into action after being underused for so long.

"Are you really going to shoot?" he asks.

"I'd feel pretty good about it, after you hurt Talwyn, let Psyclops loose, and woke me up," I answer. There's a slight click as my finger rests a bit harder on the trigger. "Aren't you going to at least acknowledge what you've done?"

"I have, machismo. Believe me or not. What I did was not acceptable, even by my usual standards. I had felt as though I deserved amusement as a form of self-gratification. As I look back now, I still would have done only one of those things."

"What would that be?" I ask lowly.

"Not harm Talwyn."

"It wasn't your business to have done _either_."

"You have a lot to be angry for, I understand. But as I told Clank…perhaps I did you better letting Psyclops go." he covers his head, but I don't do anything. "It was based on the idea that it would end up attracting more attention. The doctor, you have heard of her? She would have tried to come investigate. We can't say now if they devised an alternate escape plan for if he failed, but if so, that would have ended up being more trouble than it was worth."

"Don't you try to spin it to make it look like you were trying to help."

"That was my motivation," he insists, rising slightly. He backs down when I step closer. "I promise it was. I will admit I did some other things I wasn't supposed to while I was here. Instead of helping him kill you on the first night, I went off and left Qwark in the closet for fun. I sabotaged the power and the gas supply. I inadvertently got part of your platoon destroyed. There…I admit it all to you. That is what you wanted, yes?"

"You're a loose cannon," I state. "You don't know what you want to do, or who you want to side with. And you've caught me in a bad mood. I should go ahead and take this offer up. Save us the trouble of looking after two of you."

"Wait…! What about Clank? You trust him, right?"

"Leave him out of this."

"Rehabilitation, remember? You ride on his judgment, don't you?"

I narrow my eyes dangerously. "How do you know about that?"

"It was _my_ idea...and it was out of honest commitment," Eyesac says. "When I presented the notion to Clank during our first talk, he became oddly interested. More than I expected. It was as if he had an enlightenment. And so he brought that idea to you, which was my goal."

I scowl, finding a direct link in his words. I probably would've kept challenging them if Clank hadn't been so passionate about the topic himself. And I had said I'd trust Clank's judgement on the matter. Something tells me I was that close to doing something out of anger I'd later regret. I clench my hands tightly, trying to calm down.

"Then you shouldn't mind explaining why you randomly snuck out of prison and choked me awake," I say. "You're making it hard for me to see if you really back up your claims of commitment."

"It wouldn't have been a chokehold if you'd stopped fumbling around."

He quickly curls in on himself when a fireball strikes the ground near him, leaving a glowing, orange welt. "I came because I still want you to make the final decision," he continues, cracking a bit under my furious glare. "I was ready to risk your judgement to at least try to negotiate with you. I apologized. I gave you the gun. I tested it, and you see it fires. If you are still angry and want to kill me for what I have done, then it's your call. But if you allow me to do so, I am ready to start over from the beginning."

I sense his true intent. He was fully vulnerable on the ground. No hesitance. No signs of deceit. He was wide open and screaming without using his voice.

I lower my head and a soft groan leaves my mouth out of acceptance. There's not a shred of doubt that he was being as truthful as possible.

He was still a moron for coming at me like this, but I honestly don't know if I would have acknowledged his advances in another situation. His nerve and his desire to get my attention does cause an unironic smirk to cross my face. I look down at the Combustor, then lower it to my side. The desire to execute him has walked off.

"I promise, I will show my strength if you allow me to be an ally," Eyesac says. "To stifle their ambiguous plans before they come into fruition, would be my hope."

"What's in it for you?" I test, folding my arms.

"Nothing, if I dare say. If I get to cut off a few heads of the hydra during my run that would be a bonus. For me, it would be different to try something to be 'altruistic' for once…you hear that word? Clank told me it!"

"No personal vendetta against them?"

"Maybe a little one. Only eviscerating their reproductive tracts would give me as much joy as overturning their goals."

"I see we have similar interests," I say, barely masking my grin. "I'm assuming by all this, you intend to gain my trust?"

"I see it more as closing another chapter, machismo…but yes. The meaning stays same. In fact, it's a bit weird," he scratches at his head. "I was supposed to act as the commissioned serial killer I was, yet upon my arrival here the desire to conform to your stances seemed to come over me."

A sneer leaves me. "You mean you had a change of heart. Stop, you're going to give me diabetes."

"Don't be so clueless. This is also out of respect for you."

I raise my brows. "Wazzat?"

"Nyeh heh heh _.._.I _was_ rather impressed to see how you and Clank overcame the evil monster and made him flee to the dark depths of space from whence he had come. If only that had been my ex instead," Eyesac says, cackling. "I was in the deepest awe! I had never thought anyone could do a feat such as that! And despite whatever my worth is now to you, my services are still flatly out of reverence. Whatever you say, goes, machismo."

Oh, boy. The people we unintentionally attract. I should stop right there; at least he wasn't another Tachyon. I beckon with my hand. He gets up, holding his head up high in the air. "I'm farsighted, and you're so short I can hardly see you," he explains, catching my expression.

"I'll tell you what," I say lowly, staring into his eye. "I'm still not happy with you and probably won't get over what you did right away, but it took some stones to try to come clean and work things out with me. I'll give you an honest chance. But if I catch you lying or slipping once, you are done."

"I'm not a steak, so I wouldn't ever want to be done."

If only he knew how relevant that connotation was. I hold the Combustor up. "Did you steal this from someone?"

"No, I borrowed it. I stole these."

He pulls out a familiar looking basket, and I instantly smell the contents. "How'd you get _those?_ Clank was holding on them last."

"Qwark had them, and I snatched them away when he was looking for milk. Don't know how he got ahold of them, but here you go. Token to show friendship, eh?" He hands me the basket then backs away, like he realizes he's pushing the limits of creepiness right now. "I didn't poison them," he adds.

"Even if you had, they're so good I'd still probably risk one," I say, taking a treat out and taking a bite out of it. Oh, that was the stuff. I haven't eaten in a while, so I gladly stuff my face a few moments before going back to business. "Now, the big question. How'd you get out of the stocks?"

"I tried hard enough."

Figures. Looking ahead, his ability to escape from tight clutches should be of some use. "Well, you know you can't be walking around like this. We're going to go back. Stay close, will you? And use your invisibility, however you do it. Don't need to raise a fuss."

I tilt my head to the door, and as I pass him I see him fade out of view. It must be late since it's dark in the hallways. As the lights come on at my presence I'm reminded of something. "Were you stalking me on our first night here?"

"Yes. Is that weird? I had never seen one of your kind before but I wasn't staring for long, honest."

He doesn't bother to tread silently this time, yet his movements are still fairly quiet. It was enough for me to track him. He slithers between different positions and proximities, something that's probably just out of compulsion. Guy seems like he can't sit still for more than a few seconds.

"What are you doing up there?" I ask, glancing at the ceiling. He gives a quiet yelp of surprise, then quickly comes down to ground level.

"Wow, you're good."

I grimace. "Yeah. I've got _her_ to thank for that."

"It's probably not as bad as you think it is. I loath to admit it, but I still feel some positive effects from when she went all sciency on me," Eyesac says. "It's too early to tell, but maybe those super senses are going to help you more than you thought."

Speaking of which. I lower my voice. "Hold that thought. Someone's gotten close." I'd heard Talwyn coming down the adjacent hall for about a half minute. She walks by several seconds later, glancing over. "Oh! There you are. I've been looking for you."

"You find another bed to flip on me yet?" I ask lightly. Eyesac chuckles lowly in my ear, and I elbow him where I think his shoulder is. She doesn't notice the weird movement, laughing slightly as she walks up.

"No…but, now that I've cooled down, and thought about things, _and_ see that they ended up fairly favorable…" she nods a bit. "I'm fine. I don't need to complain."

"There's more," I say quietly, watching her expression fall slightly. "I just got talking to a Lombax Whisperer and he told me something undesirable. We should probably go ahead, you know, discuss that."

Talwyn's mouth twitches upwards. "Did you just say...Lombax Whisperer? Is that the same guy you told me about before?"

"Oh, geez I can't belive I just...yeah. Dr. Croid..."

"Well, I'm free now, big boy."

"Great. You mind giving me a few minutes? There's something I have to do beforehand."

Eyesac becomes visible, leering over my shoulder. "Hola, señori—"

She punches him across the face and he's instantly knocked out, collapsing to the ground. Speechless, I turn my head to stare at her.

"I've been waiting to do that."

* * *

I drag Eyesac's unconscious body back, explaining everything to Talwyn. She's not happy he escaped in the first place, nor is she crazy about trusting him yet. For someone who doesn't hold grudges it looks like she was going to maintain hers against him for awhile. I have this weird hunch that wasn't just because of what she did to her.

When we reach the stocks, no one standing outside at post. "Hmmmm. That's dandy," Talwyn deadpans. "How _lucky_ he didn't break out to try to murder you. Who's supposed to be standing outside?"

"D07, I think…" I say. It must have been something really bothersome for him to leave and without calling for a temporary replacement. I've started to get the idea that Eyesac blindsided him to keep him quiet when I hear metallic footsteps getting closer.

"Oh, dear. It appears Eyesac has gotten out again. He is quite the slippery fellow."

"Clank?" I ask, turning to see him walking towards us. "Wait, did you say again?"

"Indeed. From our first meeting, he got out. I warned him what would happen if he escaped, but," he shrugs. "It was by his choice."

"Yeeeah, we kinda worked it out without violence, even if he was that close to having his head blasted off. Talk to Talwyn if you want to know why he's knocked out."

He gives me a bright smile. "A talk? How delightful. I am glad to see it worked out so well between you two. Trust is a must for our upcoming trials."

Something about his attitude… "Clank…" I begin slowly, then hear a panicked shout from the other end of the hall. "Ah! Ah! AHHH! Oh, nooo!" D07 shouts, clearing the space between us in a mere second. "S-Sarge, forgive me, I was responding to a call from Captain Qwark! He wanted help packing his bags, you see…and…no, there's no excuse. Sorry for leaving…"

"It's Qwark, I know how overbearing he can get. Just in case this happens in the future, at least call for a replacement, alright?"

"Ahh...well?" He lifts a finger, glancing at Clank. "That was my mistake, Ratchet," Clank says. "I volunteered to stay at his post until he returned. Unfortunately, I found myself being distracted by other matters and he must have slipped away!"

Talwyn had been boring holes into D07, but her head whips down to him in shock. "What? You're not normally that careless!"

"Forgive me…I suppose it would not be too difficult for me to make up for my misstep?" Clank asks, hanging his head.

"Well I…oh, of course not, Clank. I can't stay upset at you..." Talwyn lets out a tired sigh, placing a hand over her heart. "You guys are really killing me, here."

He peeks up at me, then quickly looks away. I shoot him a playful leer then drag Eyesac over to his post. It was more of legal requirement than anything else now. Couldn't have him roaming when they came to pick him up. Once I'm done securing him I find that Clank has already mysteriously disappeared. There's no doubt in my mind now.

That little bug-eyed _tin can_. He had totally been upwind on this. Questionable as it may have been, he never does anything out of reckless intent. It was an interesting game of chess he's played here.

I grin slightly. It's not because Talwyn is giving me suggestions of what we could do after the HoverDerby. That was my pal, somehow finding ways to improvise on improbable odds.


	10. Hope is at Ground Zero

**Chapter 10: Hope is at Ground Zero**

Having a change of pace, even if it's from a rushed sprint to a leisurely walk, is a very trying thing right now.

In this short amount of time I had almost forgotten what it was like to not have things constantly demanding my attention. While my subconscious desire to have some down time has come true, it seems like a prize less magical once it's finally been attained.

Marcadia's atmospheres had calmed. The mysterious vessels, which had evaded the pursuit of Solana's defense force, seemingly pulled back without hostility. That leaves me with the impression they were watchers, observers of their own. Whatever duties that brought them there had been fulfilled, and to our ignorance.

It was several more days of complete silence on both ends before both galaxies rule out there's no longer any signs of immediate danger. While both defense forces are still, to their own standards, staying vigilant about watching for any warning signs, the presidential lockdown was lifted.

I understood. Qwark and Phyronix couldn't stay closed up forever out of fear. I'm also not naïve and know it's a matter of time before we see some sign of the enemy again.

Several days ago, they had come to pick Eyesac up. He had gone quietly, stopping right before they put him in the carrier. He had looked at me with a nod, eye flashing.

From that point I felt we both understood each other as much as we needed to, and I found the concern about him being disobedient leaving. There were no doubts that he would give Clank and I his loyalty and respect from now on, though it was something I knew didn't yet apply to anyone else. After all it wasn't just us he needed to be trusted by, it was also the others around us. He still had a while to go before he matured that much.

The universe in its entirety has done what I had asked of it. I had no immediate issues to be dealt with and even got some resolved. By all means I should be able to relax now.

We were set to go back home soon. I spend most of the days beforehand in bed, catching up on sleep. Even when rested, most of the time I just feel like lying there. There's a bit of lag when I emerge from slumber sometimes where my brain can't figure out what it wants to do, and feels alright with settling back on nothing. It's the cycle I thoughtlessly stay in.

I was still tired mentally, suggests Talwyn. Even when I get up to be active, I zone out with ease and typically go through the motions. Sometimes I hardly remember what I'd been doing.

I was trying to break that cycle now, even if it killed me.

I run my thumb across the gun's revolving barrel, hearing it click. It—or they, as I have two more in my other hand—have multiple chambers and no safety. It's an extremely archaic model. I'd found them with a set of matching bullets while rummaging around Talwyn's ammunitions stock.

For a moment, I contemplate the gun in my left hand, then raise it.

It's tossed in the air, spiraling as it goes. Before it comes down I do the same with the other two and my hands are only empty for a moment before I catch the first again. They're light, easy to handle, and with my acceptable juggling skills I keep them in a clean loop. The next part would add another layer of focus.

"Ah, what are you doing?"

Clank had walked in behind me. Determined to not be distracted, my eyes zone in on a gun as it falls. I snatch it, then fire it off quickly. _Bang!_

One of the targets at the end of the range is chipped, part of it flying off. "Testing my luck," I answer, continuing the sequence in my hands as I search for another mark.

"This is certainly new," he remarks, standing next to me. I fire again, but it only clicks loudly.

"There's one bullet in each, and they're multi-chambered."

"I see the gimmick. Using probability with skill is quite different than what you usually strive for."

 _Click_. "I know. You know I must be bored if I'm using math to entertain myself."

 _Click…click…click…_ this next one, I felt lucky. The sharp sound of an empty chamber proves me yet wrong again.

 _Bang!_ The very next shot surprises me, and I miss completely.

"Did you need me for something?" I ask. _Click._

"I came to remind you that Qwark wanted us to go with him out for a visit."

 _Click_. "He say where?"

"He chose not to elaborate," says Clank, looking a bit worried.

Qwark is still hanging around here for reasons unknown. I don't get why he'd have an issue paying his rent anywhere else with all the money he has. I'm not even going to wonder his latest intention is, since it'd be as obvious as a megaton bomb exploding.

Eh, whatever. Qwark always helps when it comes to distracting the mind.

I give an extra high toss and the revolver spins all the way up to the ceiling. I catch the other two in either hands then aim, firing off five times in succession. Empty. I drop them, catching the last one on its trip down.

 _Bang!_

It's a little off center on the target it strikes, but almost splinters it in half. I lower the revolver and spin the barrel again. Three shots out of ten. Hardly a passing score for good luck.

"Let me put these up and I'll be ready."

"Perhaps I imagine it, but you are moving a bit differently from before. It is something about your poise."

"Huh? Oh…well, I was just moving on instinct," I say, unlocking the case and placing the weapons in. "I don't feel all too different than from before, except maybe I can see things even better."

"Maybe that is it. It seems your heightened senses are here to help you in other ways."

That was good I guess, even if I can't really figure out how to vocalize my interest. Once or twice Clank glances at me as we head out. He's been silent lately about my mood shift, but I know it's likely because he can sense I'm not keen on talking about it.

I find a way to turn the subject to the types of imaginative quirks we could apply to the Starqwake. It's the name we had finally settled on for our HoverDerby ship. Even though I was still recovering the rest of the way from my mind relapse, I was already welcoming the idea of going back to the creative arts. I'm sure most of what I've come up with already was questionably legal.

When we go meet up with Qwark, he enthusiastically shoves us in his ship without a single word.

I'll admit I still get nervous when he shows and doesn't tell. By the time he starts to discuss the stocks falling on Umbris I've left the conversation, looking out the window and mindlessly watching space pass by. I feel like I blink and we're already entering Igliak's atmosphere.

Qwark leans over, nudging me and looking like he wants to violate the personal space rule.

"Someone need a little pick me up?"

"Does it look like I want to be manhandled now?"

"To be fair you never do in the first place, but I can take an extra hint. Part of the problem with you now is that you're simply not active enough, I mean just _look_ at how bird-chested you are! If you take my advice and whip yourself into shape, you don't have to feel so unsatisfied with yourself. All you have to do is start lefting weights, like me!"

"...did you really just say _left_ instead of _lift?_ "

"Same thing, different tense. Now come on, chop chop, what do you want with your order, fries? Make your mind up because we're going out for a little treat."

"What? Really?" I wonder, surprised.

"Duh, I'm not going to ignore your efforts. In celebration of you both keeping me alive, I decided to have a relaxing get together. No, no, you _don't_ have to thank me."

My blood sugar _was_ running a bit low. I expect him to take us to a ritzy place where only less than one percent of the universe's population can afford to eat at, with all the weird food divided up into the smallest portions ever thought imaginable.

He actually goes to a modest looking Galaxy Burger on the corner of the main avenue. I couldn't be less shocked.

Qwark slams the doors open, holding his arms out. "Greetings, commoners! Allow my cohorts and I to enjoy a fresh day out from the old grind, and no pictures please! We want this to be as _casual_ as possible."

"It's almost like you're asking for attention—oh, _see?_ " I say, cracking up after someone hurtles their half-eaten banana split at him. "You got it!"

"Hey! This spandex isn't easy to clean, you know!" he snaps at the offender, swiping the mess into the nearest trash bin. "Can I get a towlette, please?"

I can tell he's been here enough, judging by the staff's reaction time. Probably to avoid any more conflicts and shut him up, they escort us to a booth in the back away from everyone else. Qwark grunts as he sits down, cleaning the last of the chocolate off his suit. " _People_ , I tell you."

"Maybe that would not have happened if we walked in quietly?" Clank suggests. I don't know why he bothered. Qwark not only takes up more space than the average person, he also, internationally or not, attracts attention wherever he goes. I hope I didn't have to stop any assassination attempts here, at least before I got something in me.

Qwark predictably doesn't acknowledge the suggestion as reasonable advice and pounds the table twice, calling, "I'll have the usual, please! Want to share a salad with me, Ratchet?"

"I'm avoiding anything green," I say almost ravenously, staring at the menu imbedded in the table. "I need meat. MEAT."

"Then don't be shy, guys. Go on up there and order everything to your heart's content."

"Thanks, Qwark," I answer, with a surprising lack of sarcasm for once. Forget what Croid said about my weight, I was going to go the extra mile and get a full meal.

"May I please have a canister of oil?" asks Clank, when we get up to the counter.

"Yeah, and I'll have the number 101, large, an' no mustard please," I say. The woman behind the counter glances at me, doing a double take. "You sure you're not talking about the hundred and two, son?" she asks, pointing to the picture on the menu.

It's a salad. I almost grunt in disgust. "That'd be a big no."

"It just seems like a lot for a little guy like you. Don't put your money where your mouth is."

Clank chuckles, "Actually, you would be surprised at how much he can eat."

Uh huh, he could yap all he wants to. As long as I get what I requested, I'll be happy.

When we sit down Qwark says, "Just take this as a token of my gratitude. You know it's been quite difficult adapting to being so shut in. I shudder to think what would happen if I were put in that position again, especially without such excellent sidekicks watching after me."

"What, you mean being tied up in a closet?"

"I'd take the less despairing punishment. It could have been barbed wire strapping me to someone's table in a dungeon, with all types of freaky instruments at the ready."

"Okay, and you would know how to formulate a scene like that," I drawl. "The thing is, it's nothing really to be concerned about, Qwark. If you don't go looking for trouble, which you ironically don't, then I don't mind. It's the process that's more of a hassle than you."

"By process, do you mean taking responsibility for something I've unwillingly or indirectly done?"

"Yes."

"Ratchet," Clank scolds, and I shrug. "Hey, I'm not _blaming_ him. In this case, I'm assuming it's your profile that made you a target, Qwark. It's not like those Pekengeri were influenced by your presidential term, or any other ambiguously conniving thing you've…...let me just stop there."

"It seems you unintentionally attract someone's wrath even while minding your own business," Clank rephrases.

"Like the paparazzi, which are just as evil as any other mad scientist. _Muck_ rakers," Qwark says, scoffing. "A bit on the serious tip though, and I would like your honest opinions: Do you, Ratchet and Clank, consider me to be your friend?"

"What?" I ask. It was more out of reflex than denial. Qwark nods, one brow cocked up higher as he stares at his knuckles. "Mhm, yes."

"I have considered you as such for a long time," Clank says. "Disregarding the rare moments where I want to inflict bodily harm on you because you have exhausted my very limited patience, I find you a pleasure to be around."

"If I were to be honest, you're not exactly the easiest person to be friends with at times," I say.

He cries out and throws himself forward, slamming his hands on the table. "D-Does this mean you've rejected me?!"

"No, big guy. I'd never do that," I admit, then add, "You really didn't need to ask something like this to know the answer, Qwark."

"Oh, aww! THAT," he says excitedly, "is the _exact_ gratification I've been looking for! Come on, let's bring it in!"

He holds his arms out, then falters a bit when he sees my expression. I sigh a bit, then scoot over. "…go ahead."

He scoops us both up in a hug, a bit tight of course. Even though no one can really see us I'm not keen on public displays of affection, giving him about five seconds before I make him let us go. After that (and apparently satisfied for now) he pulls out a piece of paper.

"Now, I need your opinions! A ball pit or a sea of marshmallows?"

"A ball pit," I say, going with it. I'd never been in one. Some childhood I had.

"Next! Lava or banana pudding?"

"If the banana pudding doesn't have wafers in it, then lava."

"We're on the same page here. Clank, this one is for you. How do you like the feeling of sand in between your gears?"

" _I absolutely despise it."_

"Sheesh, don't have to tell me twice. Alright then, ice it is!"

He puts the list away, takes a toothpick from the holder, then leans back in his seat. I raise my brows at him expectantly. "Not gonna explain why, or…any type of context, just…okay."

"You ordered a Deluxe 102 Special, Qwark sir?" a waiter says enthusiastically, rolling his cart to our table.

His plate is way too green. I hiss to myself, growing irate from hunger. By the time Clank is receiving his can of oil I've stood up, trying to gauge if I could clear the jump over the table with the little space I had.

Not realizing how close he came to getting heckled, the waiter cheerfully pulls another tray out and hands it to me. _That's_ what I'm talking about. A big cheeseburger and some fries will quickly improve my mood!

I tear into it without restraint, glad that we were tucked away in a booth with no one else around to see us. This was amazing. The thickness of cheese, the softness of the bread and how the meat was _just_ the right amount of tender was perfect. There's also the precise saltiness of the fries and the light crunchy coating on them. _Heaven_.

"Ratchet, you are eating far too…" Clank says, right before I gag. Mouthful went down the wrong way. Maybe I could...oh, nope. Choking. Most definitely. At least it was on good food.

Clank whacks me on the back. It's not enough. Qwark on the other hand, nearly sends me face first into the table. The blockage in my throat passes and I gasp for a moment, catching my breath. "Ahh…whoa. Thanks. Went a little quick there."

"What are friends for, huh?" Qwark asks brightly. "That wouldn't have happened if you ate something that was a bit healthier, like a heaping pile of Sargasso-grown vine leaves dipped in hearty poppyseed sauce, and...wait," he scowls, standing up indignantly, "They forgot my bacon bits!"

"They may be in a separate package, Qwark," Clank points out. "Check your tray."

He lifts his plate. "All I see is a newspaper ad promoting orphans to adopt _other_ orphans!"

"I'll take that, please."

He gives me the paper before ducking down, rattling the table and dishes as he pokes around underneath. There's the hilariously nasty urge for me to flip his salad off the countertop…but no reason to add insult to injury.

Clank gets lifted, balancing on Qwark's head as he pops up. "I don't see them! To think I gave this place five stars in all my previous visits. Well, _heh-heh-heell_ , it's gonna be 4.9 stars now!"

His eyes fall on the piece of plastic wedged underneath my elbow. I pretend not to notice, shoving fries in my mouth as I read the ad. He slides up next to me, smiling nicely. "Ratchet?"

"Yeh?"

"What's that thing underneath your arm? It looks like…" he pulls the plastic away, giving a gasp of accusation. "Frank's Bacon Babies! You ate them!"

"Sorry about that, thought they were a bonus. They must've been put on my tray by mistake."

Qwark snatches one of my ankles then yanks me up into the air upside down.

"I think you have something that belongs to me. How am I supposed to fully enjoy my healthy meal without a little vice, HUH? Helga already has me starting a diet soon, so I need to get all my desires in while I can! Haven't you heard that bacon clogs your pores?"

"It is actually arteries," Clank corrects.

"I'm a hundred percent positive it's too late to give them back," I say.

"Then choke on your own tongue and make a hair ball, do it how you weird alien cat phenotypes can."

Despite feeling nauseous, I snicker. "Wow, that's what you think of me as, big guy?"

"You should be glad I didn't bring my paddle with me, because I _know_ some old-fashioned punishment."

"Don't be bringing that freaky stuff to the table, you hear?!"

Clank takes a sip from his oil, ignoring us. By now people are wandering over, sticking heads out of booths to see what the fuss was. I feel like I'm close to hurling.

"I think you need to learn some parameters, Ratchet. I have an entire dossier on them! Parameter one out of seven thousand eight hundred twelve states—"

Ah, _shit_. "Clank, help…" I groan. This was probably about to get really ugly. Clank seems to agree, pulling my tray over his head just in case. "I have an idea, Qwark," he says calmly. "How about asking them for another pack?"

"That...is a _splendid_ idea! I guess that means you got off the hook this time, Ratchet," he lets go of me, then raises a hand. "Hey! Waiter! Can I get another pack of Frank's?!"

About twenty minutes later, when I'm no longer within the territory of projectile vomiting, Qwark has his half-eaten salad in a carry out box and was trying to wrestle with the ice cream machine that refuses to work. "Stop shaking me," the machine snaps.

"But I want ice cream! The trip isn't complete without dessert."

"Perhaps if you were kinder, there would be some left for you."

"Sounds like they need more up-to-date equipment that actually functions and has a pleasant attitude. Huh," Qwark turns away, failing to notice how a child comes up and gets a heaping bowl of Neapolitan from the machie behind him. "Service has been a bit iffy today. It was the only time I haven't made a reservation, so maybe they didn't expect me."

"After today, don't ever call ahead again. They might have armed assassins ready to kill you," I say. The cashier overhears, shooting me a look. I'm sure she had a knife concealed in her pants somewhere.

"I'll let it slide since we had a good time. Too bad Talwyn didn't want to come along."

"And why is that, I presume?" Clank questions.

"She said it'd be too much of a fuss to go somewhere with all of us. I can't see the reasoning in that though, but women. Finicky creatures at times."

There's a bell next to the door, probably to indicate customer satisfaction. I wind back and hit it, with a bit more force than intended. It creates a deep sonorous ring that pleases my ears, at least until the sound of shattering glass rings out. There's a startled waitress nearby with a stack of smashed dishes at her feet. "Heh heh, oops," I say. Qwark cuts his eyes back and forth.

"We're not paying for that. Let's go," he mutters, quickly shoving us out the restaurant.

Clank shakes his head. "I cannot take you both anywhere, can I?"

I was all ready to fall asleep even on the trip back, starting to get comfortable in my seat. That's when a wayward thought, almost like an impulse, comes to me.

"Hey, do me a favor, Qwark. Stop by the Headquarters, will you?"

* * *

I knew Eyesac had been sent off already, but wasn't too sure about Optner. I was probably already too late.

It's empty here, as usual. I mosey up the steps, figuring someone had to be here since the head of the Defense Force was coming back today.

I spot Regina through the glass doors, growing curious about her posture. She's standing at the desk, leaning forward on one hand and seems to be talking frantically into the phone. She slams it down and turns to see me arriving, seeming annoyed.

"I come at the wrong time?"

"No, I need someone to express my disbelief to. This morning, our highly classified and top-secret weapon patented by McNeil himself was stolen from its hangar. Our security team took _hours_ to notice someone had broken in. How it's impossible to notice that the side of the building is caved in for that long, I have no idea."

"Did they look at the point of entry and determine what type of force was used?"

"It looks like whoever it was rammed something huge, and I mean HUGE, into it. You can even see where some black paint was scraped off. I've been checking galaxy-wide records to see if I can find a match on ships that big, but nothing so far," Regina says, clawing at her hair. "I have an itch that this is going to be a problem to deal with, but, whatever. I'm sure you didn't come to hear all that. I like the fuzzy ball on the end of your tail, by the way."

"...thank you," I say slowly. "I wanted to talk to Optner before you guys take him away."

"The little guy?" she asks, surprised. "Sure. You're just in luck, because he was supposed to be sent out later today. McNeil wanted to do the same thing after he gets back today from his extended break."

"You mean vacation, right?"

"That's another way of putting...eh heh heh."

When I don't share her amusement she clears her throat and continues, "Anyway, he wants to get those Pekengeri into the mood, so he'll be visiting them in rehab. I will too, actually. He claims that he already has an idea of what type of unit they could be used as, push comes to shove."

I wasn't thinking about what they would do later. Not yet. I still had something else I had to fix before moving on.

* * *

The Pekengeri is drifting along in his tank, eye bugging out when he sees us come in.

"I've got to make a call to Jasindu's ambassador, so I won't hang around. Do you remember how to talk to him? You can even leave his audio on when you're done. He's not going to stay in there for long."

"Yeah, I got it."

"And you know how he is...I wouldn't want you getting a headache talking to him for too long, so..."

I stare at her blankly.

"…right. I'll just…go. See you."

After she leaves I groan, rubbing my face. I'm not sure why I feel guilty since I wasn't trying to be rude. She wasn't even as excitable as she was normally was so it wasn't like I was expending any extra energy to keep up with her.

Remembering what I came here for, I push those thoughts away and cross the room, reaching past the bars of the cage to press the button.

"Don't bother," Optner says.

"Who left the audio connected?"

"It was this big headed pink thing from earlier. He came in asking if I knew how to camouflage myself. I told him no, and he rushed out saying I wasn't any help to him," he scowls. "Well sorree, pal, if you couldn't camouflage that ugly pink mug of yours!"

He stops, then seems to take the effort to calm down. It's amusing to see.

"So," Optner continues, though sounding suspicious, "what did I do now? She…she said I'm not gonna be around for long, and that you'll be out when you're DONE with me? This is the end. You're gonna—"

"I'm sorry."

"—kill me after leading me on, I KNEW it, I knew was going to be denied falsely given rights! Wait _huh?_ " Optner stops, blinking. "…did you just…apologize?"

"Yes. I'll say it again."

"No, bro, I heard you. I don't get why I heard what I heard."

"Do you have the memory of an infant Drophyd? You couldn't have forgotten what I did to you."

"I've been trying to _forget_ it," he says, backing up slightly. "Did you really come all the way here to apologize for that?"

"I did. I at least want it to be clear that I never would have wanted that for you. You didn't deserve that. So…there."

He doesn't say anything. I hardly have the patience for his attitude and turn to leave.

"Wait a moment!"

"What's my nap waiting on?"

He takes in an audible breath. Beats me how he does that while submerged in liquid.

"I've been considering. I'm not perfect, and I know I don't deserve any type of apology. But hold on, Stripes!" he calls, stopping me at the door. "Listen to me for a moment. It's hard enough that I'd been uprooted from the ugly ground I'd been on then planted in a different spot, but I'm seriously trying to do better, okay? And I mean…it's not like we're really enemies anymore."

"Really," I repeat.

"I mean—allow me to sweep that ambiguity away, we aren't. I never even had anything against you personally, EVEN IF YOU DID TICK ME OFF SEVERAL TIMES and I was lost in the moment. I was _told_ to kill you as a order, but I wouldn't have done that in any other situation."

"So if someone gave you a million bolts to shoot me in the back, you wouldn't do it?"

"What is your problem?" he asks grouchily. "I'm trying to admit something here, and you ain't being kind to me. You apologized without an issue from me, isn't it fair to let me do the same?"

I turn around to face him. "Hear me out on this," Optner says tepidly, "And I'm not trying to be a dick, but you going batshit crazy is a serious problem that needs to be checked out."

"It has been, as much as it could be. There's hardly anything but vagueness surrounding the issue," I mutter, then blow air out the corner of my mouth. " _Tch_...I shouldn't have even let myself get pushed that far."

"Hey, come on. I know I have all rights to say YES, that was your fault. It ain't...just as simple as how I feel, though. _I_ was the one poking the bear," he points at himself with all of his limbs. "You told me to shut up several times. I didn't. I'm the one in control of my mouth."

"The situation was as dysfunctional as it gets."

"Then stop making it so black and white even if your moral code is telling you, 'Hey jackass! Nice going there!'," Optner rolls his eye. "If I was the victim and never blamed you, don't you think that's a sign you need to stop kicking yourself in the balls? _Have_ you been doing that to yourself? I bet you have, and that's why you're so pissy now."

"Heh. I'm just...I don't know," I sigh. Saying I was tired wouldn't even be accurate.

"In a way, I did something against my own will too. I was more lucid, but I can't even take full responsibility for it."

"I can hardly fault you for being a slave."

He looks at me dryly. "Then I guess we've reached a common understanding. Bottom line, we've caused enough grief to each other and I'm ready to move on."

"Hm. I feel the same way. Lemme ask you something," I say. "Do you think there's a quick fix to the walls of my sentience fizzling thin?"

"Uhhh...I'd take a guess and say there's not a simple solution. Damned if I know what you have to do to get over that."

"Then how do you truthfully feel, knowing we're going to be working together in the future?" I ask steadily, looking at the floor.

"I can't say I'd feel the safest. It's not like I have any alternative other than to suck it up. What, are you afraid I'd call you a monster or something?" he asks, amused. "Face it Stripes, if you keep worrying about how others think about you, you're never really gonna relax. Just be thankful it's not the _wrong_ people that know."

He's quiet for a moment, looking off to the side. "Anyway, I have to thank you for something else."

"For what?"

"Way back when, when we were talking at Apogee's station. You basically told me to not be a dickhead and be respectful to others. It was first time someone talked to me like I meant something, even if it was because of bad behavior," he answers moodily. "I don't just swim in here mindlessly, you know. I've been considering a lot and finally settled on YES. I'd like to be treated like an individual with respect, 'cause I never had that privilege back home.

"And since I want to be treated right, I'll start doing the same for others. Maybe...something good will finally happen to me one day."

"You have a nice idea to start with," I say. "I'd get into the habit of not expect something in return for what you do. It does happen, but that's also where humility comes in."

"I hate it when good things happen to bad people, and bad to good people," Optner says sullenly. "Why does the universe whack out like that sometimes, huh? It isn't fair."

"Generalizations are also something else you want to avoid. They make you look at life too stiffly if you use 'em all the time," I say. "I can see you know better. Just say you're going to be a better person…squid...person thing, and try not to rule the universe, or reverse time, orrrrr commit mass genocide of a race that you hate with all your might."

"You're speaking from experience, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a bit."

"I get it," he says, rasing his tentacles. "So please. Stop right there. That's enough heart-to-heart for me. We said sorry, and forgave each other. Right?"

"Yeah. I'm alright."

"Then…so am I. If, you know…" he lowers his voice. "something like that preferably doesn't happen again. I'm not some freak that enjoys getting eaten alive."

"I can't make promises. But if I ever feel like that again, I'll…try to warn you. Count on it." I turn to leave, waving a hand in goodbye. "See ya. Take care of yourself."

"Yeah…you too, Stripes."

* * *

"Just in time, Ratchet!" Qwark says, the instant I step back onto his ship. "I have another job for you!"

"Can you let a guy sit down first?"

"Go ahead, we're just heading over to the post office. I just remembered I haven't checked my PO Box in forever. You both mind helping a guy out? Trust me, it'll take more than one person to get it all in one go."

Several dozen blocks later we've arrived at Meridian City's largest post office. At first Qwark battles with the tellers at the desk, since he was unable to remember his box number and they refused to tell him. At some point in the quarrel someone throws a package at the side of his head.

"Box number 116910?" Clank asks, reading the label on the package. "This facility must be enormous."

"Don't worry, they have warp pads. All I gotta do is go over there to that doohickey, type my password in and we'll be whisked over to my box!"

"Do you remember your password?"

"I made it something easy so I'd never forget." He tucks his package under his arm, hunching over the terminal. It was probably something simple, like four zeroes. "Let's see...four-two-zero-one-nine-seven-one-four-two-eight-one-nine-nine- _seven!_ "

He smashes the enter key, and the warp pad next to the terminal turns green. I apathetically step into it after him. Before us now is a huge curved hallway, with boxes stretching as high as the ceiling. There's a weird distinction about one directly ahead of us, light glowing around its edges. It fades as Qwark approaches, though when he tries to open it, it doesn't budge. "I figured. It's so full it's jammed."

"Qwark, who's that package from?" I ask.

"From the other member of my Secret Service. The Agorian fellow," he says, still struggling. "I can't wait to see what it is since the guy has been ducking my calls for a while. Hope it's something I can reimburse, just on the offhand…"

I'd asked because I was curious, but several moments later I hear something weird. It sounds like it's coming from the package. I snatch it from him, startled when I hear several large beeps in succession.

"I don't think so! _Not today!_ " I yell, pivoting towards the window and throwing it as hard as I can. It crashes through the glass.

The explosion that follows makes the entire building shake. The windows up to our level shatter, hot air spewing the glittering shards across the floor. Several ship alarms start to go off.

I breathe a sigh of relief, dusting my hands off. "Close one, and I hope no one was in the way of that. These guys really need to improve on their mail checking procedures."

"The guy always did have a clear fascination for napalm, but that was practically a murder attempt," Qwark says, still a bit pale. "How counterproductive could a person be? Thanks for the catch Ratchet, it's why you're here."

His mailbox door reaches its tipping point and bursts open, countless letters spewing out and burying him waist up.

"When was the last time you checked your mail?" Clank asks.

"Before I became president. I figured I'd be getting mostly junk mail and bills so I wasn't really excited about checking. Looks like that ended up being more of a problem…hey, another package!"

I quickly grab it and listen to it closely to make sure it's not _another_ bomb.

We leave around an hour later when I've checked anything that seems suspicious. Clank had gone to explain to the staff about the incident, and they'd been apathetic about it. I'm not too happy about their customer service today and react accordingly.

Right before we walk out the building, I snap my fingers loudly. I see Clank's eyes widen behind the mound of letters he's carrying. "You did _not_ ," he says lowly, grinning.

There's another, though much smaller, explosion from within the building. A huge wave of white splats against the front doors, oozing out between the cracks.

"I think I'll have s'mores when we get home," I say evenly. Clank bursts into laughter.

"That reminds me, I need to go pick Skrunch up from his play date. I'm sure he has a lot to tell me after several months. It's about time he gets back to the business of diplomacy," says Qwark. "Maybe he can help me sort all _this_ out, firsthand. And chin up, Ratchet. We're almost there."

I'm saddled with a crate full of glass or some sort, probably another tea set he forgot he ordered. "Great to hear, since I can't see. Qwark, you ever think about donating things you don't need or use to other people?"

"I have been doing charity work recently and that's a different way of giving back to society. Look at this," he pulls out a photo album, which drops all the way to the ground, and holds it to where I can see it out the corner of my eye. His finger points at a barely visible picture on the lower half. "This one I just took as the financial advisor for Pokitaru's Palace for Underprivileged Homeowners! None of those houses are mine, either!"

"I can't tell what I'm supposed to be looking at."

"Don't worry about the details. If you want a free summer home, then you know a guy."

My foot catches a snag and the crate tumbles out of my hands, landing on its side. I'm sure I hear everything in it crack or shatter to some degree.

" _Geez_ …sorry about that. Where those important?"

"I _forgot_ I ordered those wine glasses for my condo on Metropolis. Eh," he waves a hand. "nothing a glue gun couldn't fix."

"They still wouldn't be the same," I say, before starting to clean the mess up. Three cups had rolled out, the closest one to me smashed completely on the ground in a pile of glittering diamond shards.

In theory, something so fragile could still be put back together after suffering a crushing blow. But all the pieces would have to be found and put firmly back in their rightful place. Even as the same cup it bore scars of its abuse. Same, but not exactly the way it was before.

"Ratchet, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, Clank."

* * *

Sometimes I wish I could clone myself so I could handle separate responsibilities at the same time. Then I realize I'd rather suffer as a single existing person than be concerned about which one of me would get to the last chocolate bar in the pantry.

It'd also be weird for Talwyn. I did want to be the best significant other I could be for her, after all. It's something I still feel uncertain about.

"Do you promise you'll try to get better?"

"I promise, Talwyn. I know it's selfish of me, after spending so long away in the first place."

"It's _hardly_ selfish."

"But you're going to be alone…again."

"Ratchet, you going back home and resting is worth far more than my own lonesome. You'd make me worry less if you went. I couldn't let you stay here when your health isn't the best, anyway. Besides, it seems there's no other place like Veldin for you," she says, looking out of the foyer's window. It overlooks one of her terrariums. Red shapes are lurking around on the forested ground. "And some Anthropods snuck in _again_."

"Want me to take care of them?"

She kisses me on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, first. And if you want, maybe we could switch it up a little and I can come visit for a bit."

"Heh…I have been wanting to show you around. Not that there's much to see, but all the bareness has its charm."

A flash of light catches my eye and I see several of the bugs scattering, trying to flee a barrage of energy pellets from the trees. A multicolored shot catches most of them in a small blast, throwing their limp bodies in all directions. A Ranger comes into view, looking around.

"Hey, I thought all the Rangers headed back to Solana already?" I ask.

"Some stayed after the lockdown was lifted. Sasha didn't want to leave me with just nothing, yet. Well, c'mon," she hits me lightly on the shoulder, walking away. "Let's see you off."

I lean off the window, watching down for a moment longer. The Ranger down below turns, looking right up at me. He raises his hand in a thumbs-up. I return the gesture, albeit hesitantly.

 _"Hee hee hee..."_

A sudden downdraft settles, making my fur stands on end; I look over my shoulder, suddenly paranoid. Clank was standing with Talwyn by the door. They're both laughing at something. Didn't they notice how cold it had just gotten?

This morning I had woken up a bit differently than before. I felt like I was in a half daze. Strangely enough, at the same time I was experiencing a bout of hypersensitivity and can't seem to stop twitching anything that could twitch. I'm a bit squirrelly and distracted in my head for a moment, then glance down back at the terrariums. The Ranger has vanished.

I hope I didn't imagine him. I didn't want to start hearing or seeing things again that weren't really there. They weren't real. Not real at all…

"Hee hee…yes, Ratchet?"

I snap out of my trance, realizing I'd walked over and put my hand on Clank's head. After a pause I throw him back gently to the side. "You mind flying on the way back, tin can? I gotta get some rest."

Rest was in reference to getting some sleep. Yet as soon as I sit down in Aphelion's passenger side, I feel like I've had several gallons of coffee. It's a bit exasperating.

I lean back and let my mind wander. It's roughly split between actual thoughts, colors, and pictures with no connection or meaning. Some parts of recent dreams that still don't make sense. I've never felt this confused and lost in my own head, at least in this manner. At least when I went to sleep, that shut down everything even if it was for a brief while. My brain knows it and won't let me escape to that solace now for some reason.

Clank distantly calls me. I blink once, then several times to wet my eyes again. How long had I gone without blinking?

"Yeah, pal?"

"We are home."

I sit up, my mouth hanging open. Dry wind gusts against us, tossing a bit of sand in Aphelion's cockpit, and I see the landforms and plains I'd become so familiar with my whole life. How did I zone out for that long?

"Did you take every possible shortcut on the way here? I can't believe I stayed that shut in the whole time."

"For the whole several hours you literally stared into space. I had to check to make sure you were breathing on occasion."

My seat belt won't respond for some reason. "Is this thing jammed or something?"

"Yes," he says smartly, "you sit there while I take everything in."

He jumps out and heads around to open the trunk, leaving me grappling in the passenger seat. "What? Clank, come on. Some of that stuff might be too heavy for you."

"It is mostly my books and your clothes, anyway."

It dawns on me. "Aphelion, let me go, will you?"

"I won't."

"Huh?" I yelp. "You mean, after all the times I waxed you, changed your paint and replaced your battery, you're gonna hold me hostage?"

"Oh, stop with the dramatics. You can go after Clank is done. Given your attention span on the way here, that shouldn't be too long of a wait."

It's not like I had anything else to do in this situation, but I am a bit sore they apparently conspired to do this. The ten minutes it takes for Clank to get everything inside is when I finally start to nod off a bit, getting a bit comfortable in the warm air. "Can I _go_ now, officer?" I ask drowsily, as he comes back.

"Of course, now that I am finished with a not so difficult task. Thank you, Aphelion."

The next time I push down on the seatbelt the lock clicks out of place. I get out, folding my arms. "When did you two agree to do something like that?"

"Within ten seconds of entering the atmosphere."

"Ugh _alright_ , that does it. I'm gonna go lie down," I say gruffly, slouching forward. "Even if I have to take a sleeping pill or two."

A Horny Toad peers out from behind the corner of our garage and just like that, there goes my attention. Maybe my issue here was overstimulation.

I can't help but to realize that I've lived here my whole life and don't know if they taste better deep fried or boiled. I lunge at it and it scurries off quickly, yipping and calls echoing into the desert.

"I just remembered that sheet you put up in the vault. I hope none of them knocked it down in our absence," Clank says, running to check. I was half tempted to tell him I was serious about catching it to eat. I was feeling too lazy now, but I'll find out sooner or later how they taste. After I get a pill down I collapse on the couch, passing out.

At twilight I awaken to find the distant shadows of desert amphibians hopping about, getting ready to go to their burrows for the night. I roll over to my back. Clank is quietly standing nearby, eyes on me.

"Planning to spurt a little whip cream on my face, pal?"

"Can we talk now, Ratchet? You seem to be unhappy about something."

"Enh…I wish I had an answer for you this time, pal. I can't seem to figure it out myself."

"You are consciously unaware? Hmm…that cannot be helped, I supposed."

"Well, I already told _you_ you're helping by just being here. You're going to bust a sprocket trying to keep up with all my issues. I mean it…might just be because I'm still changing, in my head, y'know. Might be one of the problems, at least."

His head slowly swivels over to the window, then back to me. I lay down for a few seconds more, then find the will to drag my lazy behind off the couch. Stretching, I head for the garage and open the way to outside.

I don't have an idea of where we're going specifically and just go by instinct. I steer towards the north, where the remaining light of the day shared half the skies with the approaching darkness of night. The sight of all the deep colors meshing in the sky are a relief.

My body, hollow as it feels, moves independent of my conscious thought. But I realize, it's more out of memory than instinct. I look around for a moment; the landscape is still familiar as it always had been.

Could long-standing memories really be erased completely? If they could, and if what Dr. Croid told me ended up being true, more things I could possibly comprehend would be lost to the other side of my psyche that was creeping up. It's hard to imagine that. I would rather forget something and struggle to my last breath to remember what it was, than it disappearing forever.

What a horrifying thought. Even more so if the process of memory loss was sluggish. Imagining myself slowly losing remembrance of familiar things, trying to comprehend _why_ I couldn't remember something and why I never would again, losing it without even realizing what it was any more...

It's hard to stay strong at some points in life, when something drastic changes everything you knew. Someone passes away, from natural or the worst means. You lose a possession that holds meaning. The sudden onset of mental instability or illness. It's difficult.

At the very least, I can say I have the distinct hope things will get better. I couldn't dare say I was falling without that sake.

True support is what's keeping me grounded right now. The _only_ thing. And if a person is willing to take the plunge with you, they're irreplaceable.

"You know, I haven't really done enough for you as you have for me. That kinda bites."

"I respectfully disagree."

"You sure would, tin can. Now, I mean this when I say this, but sometimes it's like I don't even deserve you. In fact, why are you even still sticking around here? Don't you have a movie set you can be on right now?"

"The season has been put on hiatus because the director was arrested for tax fraud. Besides, it is my home as much it is yours. What type of brother would be if I left you because you are having difficulties?"

"It's just a pain wanting to be better for others, yet you end up bogging them down at the same time. I mean, who _knows_ what trouble I'll get you in? I know what's happened is something out of my control, but I won't be upset when this is over. How _ever_ it ends."

"Difficult times build our character and is what makes us stronger for the future. That is a good enough trade off, is it not?"

"Yeah…you've made a good point, Clank. It is," I heave a sigh, looking forward. "It is."

The end. An end where hopefully, I could somehow salvage all of what I have left. It was far away, fleeting. Maybe it doesn't even exist as I know it. I can't let myself think like that now, or there would be nothing but despair in my mind. That, by itself, would be the most selfish thing I could think yet.

It may not be now. Later down the line, however, I hope I'll find the strength to carry myself with confidence again.

Both halves of light and dark meet in the middle, creating a heavenly walkway that extends its reach down to the dusty plains. We faithfully walk down the path, uncertain and weary, but with our heads up high.


End file.
